An Image of Summer Training
The rain cascades against my window, bellowing, “Stay in bed.” My eyes are only half open, like my drooping blinds. The promise of hilly autumn races is stronger than the promise of my sheets, though. I cast them aside and stumble to my trusty, twenty-dollar coffee pot. Four cups of water, four heaping scoops of coffee grounds. As the caffeine brews, I sit cross-legged on the carpet, watching the rain streak across the panes and eating handfuls of dry oats from the barrel (too lazy to actually cook the oatmeal this morning). After the coffee awakens my blood, I pull a sports bra and spandex out of the dryer, lace up my trainers, toss my hair into the messiest of ponytails, and depart for another morning of marvelous, mirthful miles.