tic . . . talk

Tic, Tic, Tic . . . The neon yellow numbers are turning over as I swing the legs. A purple sleeping bag, draped over a Holstein suit holds a layer of warm air close around the body, relaxed and ready to race.

This time it's a pairs start time trial. The plan is to go faster than fast the first K, & drop my partner. I know I race well on my own.

Tic, Tic, Tic . . . Although it's a partner start, for the next 15K, the tic is all that matters.

Each tic is only there for that tic. By the time you've thought of that tic, it's passed. It's left the present behind, evaporated into the past, leaving room for a future tic to talk.

. . . 24, 25, 26, beep, beep, beep, go.

Today this is the only tic, where the sunrise will talk this toc.

In this moment, it's easy to watch a clock stop.


Rest well.