Page 10 of Force Play

Me:

I’ll fill you in later.

Brianna:

Is everything okay?

Me:

It will be. I just needed to get

out of the city.

Brianna:

Who are you riding with?

I know she means well, but each response has my nerves ratcheting back up. My whole body is buzzing with the discomfort I had shed by simply being out here. I want to lie; tell her I’m with one of the guys from the crew I sometimes bike with. Her worry will only make this awful feeling of disappointment that I’m trying to get rid of worse. But she’s too sweet to lie to, so I stick with the truth.

Me:

I’m solo. It was a last-minute decision.

Brianna:

Tell me you at least have your watch.

I look down at my bare wrist. Shit.

Several weeks ago, when I was in the heat of preparing for today’s meeting, I took off after a particularly long workday for a solo hike. My phone had died, and I came home to find Brianna waiting for me by my door, wrecked with worry. After a hug that stretched on, she marched me inside and made me set up the emergency feature that would call my dad if I were to fall or crash my bike.

Me:

I didn’t wear it today because of the meeting and I forgot to grab it on my way out.

Brianna:

I don’t like this. Text me when you’re done.

Me:

I’ll be fine. Please don’t worry

about me during your shift.

Brianna:

Not possible. Stay safe, babe.

Me:

I will. Talk tonight.

With my feet on my pedals and my tires in the dirt, I feel grounded in a way that can’t be replicated. Nothing else makes me feel this alive. Expect maybe really great sex. The pulsing, pounding feeling deep in my soul that reminds me I’ve survived everything life has thrown at me.

The future may be uncertain right now, but being out here feels right, and I want more of this. Less city, less corporate bullshit, less work that doesn’t matter. More adventure, more meaning. Wherever I land will be my choice, not something I do because it’s what I’m supposed to do. I’m done doing what’s expected.

Dusk creeps in around me and my legs burn as I pedal the last few miles of the sixteen mile loop. Pushing harder, my light illuminates the narrow trail in front of me. It’s been almost an hour since I’ve seen another rider and I know I’ll find the parking lot empty when I get back to my car.

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