When I submitted my application to ride the Tour de San Felasco I kissed off all hope of being in good form on January 14, 2012. The Great Magnet despises hubris.

It can’t be helped though, so I hung on to whichever wheel I could get this morning and gutted it out through a grim 1 hour and 15 minutes of ride time for a total of 12 miles, if you can believe Tom’s bike computer- which I for one, can not believe.

I felt really good for the first 18 minutes, then I don’t know what happened. More importantly though, I have made a significant biological discovery. My left leg, often referred to as King in my narrative, is weaker than my right leg, which by default is known as Kong. This, the naming of the legs, we can blame on someone- the Greeks. Not only are they culpable for a global financial collapse, they also introduced writing from left to right. Reading, of course, was forced to fall in line much like I will be forced to fall in line, when the truck points south on January 13th.

I can let go of San Felasco, release the line and watch it drift away, but my asymetrical pins? I can not forget. I am left-handed. Do you suppose my right side is stronger because I expect it to take the brunt of the burden the world hurls my way? Is it protecting my dexterous, nimble left side?

Have I sustained more left-sided injuries over the years and debilitated my left leg’s endurance by eroding the gristle and sinew that binds it together? Is it now loose like an old ball glove, hot dog bun fingers splaying apart?

I do not know why it is, but I must accept it as true. Yoga reveals the truth, and the yogi must accept it. Don’t use the body to get into the posture. Use the posture to get into the body.

Come on King! I need you buddy.


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