On Sunday,
I was riding Frank alone and along a
single-track trail in the Boise Front. We were cantering, fast, perhaps way too
fast. Through a quick misstep we kept our balance, and I thought; consider the consequences.
Then, he pushed his pace even faster and I did not rein him in. My senses
narrowed to the Zen moment. All I heard was his breathing and the beat of his
hooves as we moved together as one. It was a tango allegro.
I was left with the thought that I am
in my fifties. Many of my acquaintances live sedentary lives. Many people that
I meet are overweight and out of shape. What has happened to their youthful
exuberance?
How did I escape? Am I lucky or just
immature?