My Zero Day
Today I woke up exhausted, hardly able to move from the whirlwind of activity over the past week. My uncle Calvin who is a tiny bit older than me exudes energy like a hose on a fire that just won’t burn out. It’s been years since I’ve wanted to come out and see where he lived, and fortunately I now live a mobile lifestyle.
Since in our journey we are following the sun, we coincidentally brought a little brightness to Douglas, Massachusetts paving the way for bike rides, short hikes, shooing off of gypsy moth larvae, a trip to Boston for an amazing Italian meal and a visit with my cousin, my first canolli, a fun street festival, and some kayaking and a quick dip in the lake to cool things off.
Each morning, we were greeted with the “knock knock, are you up?” followed by a discussion of the non stop activities we would be doing for the day. He pushed me to run 4 miles, which my usual is only 2.5. We talked for hours about how to be healthy, happy, and vibrant always. We spoke at great lengths about the importance of making an emotional connection with the people around you. We talked about our flaws. We both realized we’re not great at making friends, but we expressed hope for the future, even though we are “Crockers” who seem to be loners. It was a fun filled packed trip with lots of learning and love.
We arrived in Clinton, Connecticut yesterday with temperatures topping 90 and humidity at 100%. After setting up the trailer, we rode our bikes down to our friend’s house and joined a group ride, billed to be a “pizza ride”. I was tired from the run earlier, but pushed myself to go, you know, “to make new friends.”
The ride seemed hard. There was gravel, and puddles, and rocks, my three “favorites”. I was soaking in sweat. Literally soaking, not figuratively. There were great short conversations, a lot of laughter, and a lot of mosquitos. It felt good to push myself, but I could feel exhaustion trying to win me over.
(The pizza was delicious)
On the ride back in the dark through the forest, my bike slipped out from under me a little bit, normal for the terrain, but I stopped and immediately started to cry.
It was a good cry. Not a cry for attention. Not a cry of pain. It was one of those cries you just need so you can let the fear of life just burst and spill out of you. I listened to the sounds of my cries and let them pass over my muddy legs out into the woods. John was right there by my side without a single grain of judgement.
Our friend Troy ushered us out of the woods and John mapped a route back to our camp site, through quiet and dark Connecticut roads, dodging tiny frogs and enjoying the darkness around us. I was secretly still hoping Martha Stewart would pop out and offer us a hot piece of pie.
Today, I needed a zero day, I would do zero miles as my uncle Calvin told me was important on multi day hikes. John was planning to go camping tonight so I sat glued to the internet, surfing endlessly wherever my mind took me. I played with my cat Lance and his favorite toy, and we snuggled and relaxed. I held hands with my other cat George. I survived one of John’s tickle attacks, and let myself laugh out loud.
I finally turned away from the internet and watched the sun set on my zero day and ate a delicious salad and watched a chick flick.