Eye of the storm

There are some things in life that just make your heart soar while your head stays level. Activities that combine purposeful forward progress with pure inner peace, where there may be frenetic thrashing around yet somehow you feel you're in the eye of a hurricane. Moments of absolute equanimity when the balance between what you're doing, what's around you, and what you really want to do are all in balance. These moments are beautiful beyond belief.

I'm having one tonight. And I can't stop smiling.

Tomorrow it's The Windsor Triathlon, and in six hours time I'm heading out for my race. I've already been there once, for the racking and registering this morning, and the atmosphere's starting to build. Skies of blazing blue and unusually lean people striding around confidently in yellow wristbands. That's what Tri does: you look like gods and feel like kings.

And tonight, fan whirring in the dusk, my head's in that strange place. Pumped for tomorrow's swimbikerun action, yet heartrate steady at 48. Knowing I've put in the hours at the gym, tuned my equipment just right, studied the course maps and shoehorned every bouy and roundabout into my memory. I'm ready.

And the night is singing to me.

My personal Tri anthem ('Floyd's 'Sorrow' from AMLOR) is playing softly to my left. A ritual. To my right tomorrow's swollen bag - the packing list for a single Tri is long, clothing, equipment, and race gear like chip bands for three disciplines - promising the earth.

I haven't even switched on my PC today, and didn't want to - on a Tri weekend somehow the rest of your life gets the volume turned down on it. But somehow I wanted to write a few words, and a blog's as good a place as any. June 18th 2005 has been a very special day.

For the next week the world will just get turned to a lower volume.