The Power of the Ride




It’s time. NOW. To stop talking, quit whining and start moving. Where some hear “time's up”, I hear the crack of a pistol. Head down, eyes straight, not looking left or right. NEVER BACK. Even when I’m flirting a boundary or venturing off the grid, I am always on the track of never backing down or quitting. Meditating on goals I’ve visualized, methodical in my pursuit, my mantra steers me towards my reality. Negative, self-defeating thoughts = loser. I’m thriving, not surviving, thank you very much.

Hills, wind, heat, exhaustion...none are reasons for turning around. Draw a line in front of me and I’ll roll, run, jump, climb or crawl over it...whatever it takes. I welcome pain, letting it knock up against me and rebounding into the brush. My body is and was never my enemy—it’s a vehicle I’m building to carry me forward. My spirit does the real work, churning through a race I didn’t sign up for but I’m sure as hell going to win.

You’re either with me or I don’t know you. Naysayers, yoga pants, and sad-eyed ribbon wavers, just...don’t. I don’t need an assist. I graciously leave you and all resentments by the roadside (not so graciously: eat my dust). I forge packs with conquerors. Via gritty determination, intelligence and a love for all that seems “wrong”, we beauties laugh without restraint, cry when we want and marvel at our imperfections. We are raw, real, graceful and forever fearless.

I wear a face of perseverance, not a mask of fear. My soul is tattooed with vigilance. My veins are wrought iron. My gaze is unblinking. I’ve earned what you see on me, and what I choose to wear is my armor, my badge.

I breathe in the poetry of sidewalk chalk; exhale graffiti spray can fume and bask in the noon and neon light.

I am stronger than I ever imagined I could be and I’ll figure out what I need to do. And it will always revolve around motion.

Because when I’m moving, I AM ALIVE.

Jamie Hoffpauir