A 1-2-3-Fo

I will desist my tales of the snow once all has melted and found its way to the sea. And all the cars and trucks have beed towed away. 

I got the call very late. My clients were calling to inform me that they had just caught the ferry. Instead of staying one additional night, they would now be home in less than an hour. Scramble drill. I am up, dressed, and cleaning with precision and lightning like velocity. I had mentally rehearsed the drill, refined it, visualized it and made a few changes to make it ultra-efficient. I have my two bags packed, laptop loaded and dop kit stowed in less than ten minutes. I kiss the dog goodbye and let my self out locking the door behind me. It is still cold out as I fish for my flashlight and tred carefully over the slush. I have about a twenty minute walk to my cabin. Which means that I will have less than four hours to sleep before rising to hike to my 0530 spin class. 

I does feel good to sleep in my own bed again, the electric heated fitted sheet and coil heater humming. I am fully relaxed and quiet but cannot seem to drift off. I am planning the route I must walk because my truck has been stuck in the snow for four days. It is the only way I can get there and my motto has always been that I will go first. I will lead, and not allow something as trivial as a four mile hike in a foot of snow to keep me from leading the however many courageous troops will likewise brave the elements and show up for class. I tweak the route several time eventually deciding on the main roads because they have been maintained, sanded and scraped, rather than the trails which, un-serviced, (as they should be) will be slower and potentially more dangerous. As I go over the gear check list again, I keep an eye on the red LEDs of the clock and finally agree to commit to sleep and get one hour of rest before starting the journey. (Editors note: I will tell you about that one hour dream on another occasion). 

It is 0350 and I am up. I run through the morning drill eager to get started. A last minute change is to transfer gear from my courier bag into my trusty backpack. I slam a second cup of coffee, turn out the lights and open the door. It is not as cold as I anticipated so I immediately think that I may have over-dressed. It is not raining. I feel good. I have allowed 65 minutes to traverse the hills and get to the club 10 minutes prior to class. Should there be one because I have yet to get a text confirmation that the power is on and the club open. A chance I will have to take. 

I am walking in the center of the street because most normal people are still in bed. So I risk putting the march on auto-pilot and drift into a semi-conscious dream state thinking about exactly what and precisely why I am doing this. My cadence snaps to attention and syncs with my breaths almost at once as I do so. This is no nice, so quiet, so peaceful, 2-3-4. I consider my role as facilitator, as squadron leader, as guide. What if I had decided to stay in bed and chance missing this magical moment, because of, what, a little snow? HA! 2-3-4. This is a character builder, a test of grit, another gut-check opportunity to do something out of the ordinary. EVEN IF CLASS IS CANCELLED, I STILL HAVE THIS MOMENT, THIS ACTION, THIS ADVENTURE. 2-3-4. My thoughts take me to the Buddha’s concept of right livelihood. I am marching in the snow to lead my brothers in group exercise. A drill we volunteer for, and execute like warriors at oh-dark-thirty. I cannot fail them, nor they me. That is our bond, our agreement and our salvation, 2-3-4.

Right livelihood suggests that we not engage in the selling or trading of weapons, living beings, meat, alcohol, drink or poison. Check 2-3-4.

I am close to the club when my phone pings. I remove my steamy glasses, dig out my phone from jacket pocket and see that the club is open and all group exercise classes are a go. I call and update Ian at the from desk with the status report than I am 15 minutes out and to please have the class prep their bikes and begin to warm up, I will be there shortly, 3-4.

It all makes sense now. There is a higher meaning to all of this. Doing the thing you consider to be right will always illuminate a path. One with the glowing light of passion showing the way. There are things that get done - and there are the things that must get done. 

I change into my workout kit, grab a couple of towels and step into our indoor cycling dojo at exactly 0529. Where four hardy souls sit and spin. I set up the stereo, hop aboard and welcome them. They all nod in agreement as if all is now well with the cosmos. 

Beatles: I Saw Her Standing There a 1-2-3-Fo.