Thanks to whoever read this today. I was fairly certain that I’d had a headline like the one above, and am glad to know that I’m not, precisely, repeating myself.

But thank you, dear reader, you saved me having to check.

Woke up on Monday and it sounded like it was lashing rain. The light edging into my bedroom was gray, and that, that noise, that was definitely precipitation… in my bid for five more minutes, I didn’t get up to peek around the shade… but when I did, I saw that it was only gray, and the noise was my shade shushing against the balcony door.

I was going to have to out in this, and go riding, wasn’t I?

I booted up my computer to find the email that had the number of Festina Lente; would I be a complete coward and mail in my ‘sick’ note, or would I leave a message on the answer phone? It was 7.50 am. I had to be out the door for 8.05 at the latest.

A cloud shifted to the side, and I saw a fragment of blue sky.

And suddenly found myself leggin’ it across the coast road for my first bus. How did that happen?

I was sure I had just been standing in front of my laptop, in my dressing gown, allowing myself the blissful image of me, back in my warm bed. I remember staring out the window. I remember, maybe, sitting down in my desk chair…

And then there I was, on the bus.

My body got me out the door. As ‘heady’ as I have always been for my whole entire life, my body has finally found its voice, it would seem, and its authority. Honest to God, one minute I was picturing myself dreaming away the morning, and the next I was in O’Connell Street waiting for my next bus.

If my body could talk, I expect its speech would have gone something like this:

“Nope, let’s go, come on, it’s not raining, it might not rain, even if it does rain by the time you get on the long road, there’s plenty of trees, you won’t get too wet, you won’t get soaked, like, come on: jodhs on! Top — on! Bag is already packed, zip up the half chaps, don’t mind the cuppa, you’ll survive, leave the stick, Morris doesn’t like it, put on the fleece, the next jacket, the big jacket, sling the bag on your shoulder, keys, open the door, lock the door, go, go, go!

I stood in the indoor waiting for my instructor. I’d made it in just as the rain began its serious descent to the earth. I had an amazing morning on Morris. The dude who took my lesson said he’d never seen Morris so active in the trot. We rode some lovely circles. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I’m so glad I made it. Thanks, body, must listen to you more in future.

Advertisements