The Ride

I can feel my blood thumping through my veins on a molecular level. Each blood cell coursing forward ever-faster with rhythmic dedication to getting to it’s destination, which is more of a journey than a place, being that it’s going to be back in this same spot in another moment, especially when my heart’s pumping at this pace. It seems like I’m always in this state.

My life is a dramatic scene in a movie, just one after another without breaks in between at times it seems.

Just the idea of trying this crazy stunt got the organ the size of two fists behind my rib cage pumping at this rate. Sometimes I tell myself that I must be insane for thinking that this is doable. Sometimes I ask myself why I even try when I know how it’s going to end. The process of going through the journey makes me stronger; it adds more information to my arsenal of how to live this crazy life.

I’m pulled back into the moment. I’m back in the present. There’s no room for drifting off into another time or place; there would be no space for that anyway, by the time my mind started to try it, it would all be over already.

There's no time for thinking here. There's only time for feeling and action. Impulse. Gut. Instinct. Going with your first muscle movement inclination. No room for mental processes, don't even try it: you'll only end up on the ground. You'll be worse than when you started off.

Seven seconds. Can you hold on? The entire time? Who knows. You'll find out in a few blinks of an eye. Fortitude. Toughness. Resiliency. You need these things. They are not optional for making it out of this journey alive. Focus. Stay focused. No room for distraction. Keep your eye on the end goal.

You're up on the beast. Out of the gates. They’ve given you the green light. There's no turning back now. On the back of this thing, you never know what might happen. Anything could go down. And anything might. Including yourself. Riding up here, the rest of the world disappears, and it feels like this is the entire universe. Just me and this crazy ride. Nothing else matters in the moment, nothing else exists.

Six seconds. The ride just began, but it's simultaneously almost over. So far, it's been about as good as you can hope for it to go. Rough, with steady turbulence and every second just praying for your life to continue past this moment.

Five seconds. Two down. You've made it more than some, but not long enough to be notable, not long enough to make a mark.

Four seconds. How have you even made it this far? You're not sure, but all that matters is staying on, toughing out this ride. You know that if you muster all the stamina within yourself, you might just be able to make it through.

Three seconds. This feels like an eternity. How could it possibly only have been going on for this long?

Two seconds. You're nearly there. If you could have told yourself you'd get this far before it began, you're not sure that you would have believed it. This has been everything but easy, but you made it, well almost. You really shouldn't get ahead of yourself, it never ends well when you do.

One second. Just one more left until you've made it through one of the toughest things you've experienced in your life. You almost want to cry with relief. But you're not there yet.

Zero seconds. You've made it. The moment has passed. The anxiety is dissipating. You can feel your muscles melting back down, releasing the tension that they've held oh-so-tightly for too long now.

Despite all odds. Despite what you and everyone else thought. You survived the bull.