The Definition of Insanity is Repeating the Same Behavior Over and Over and Expecting Different Results

Steely legs grind sausage asphalt like meat Turn! Turn! Turn the crank over. My breath is a lullaby for the street Churn! Churn! Churn the breath over Speed drips out of me through orbiting feet Turn! Turn! Turn the crank over. Gravity grabs me with kisses so sweet Churn! Churn! Churn the force over. Then gracefully tears out my lungs complete, Burn! Burn! Burn the lungs over. When a mountain’s flexing muscles I greet, Turn! Turn! Turn the land over. With switchbacks and grades I fear in my sleep, Turn! Turn! Turn the crank over. Now into the smaller ring I creep, Turn! Turn! Turn the crank over. My breath is mediation, hard and deep, Churn! Churn! Churn the breath over. Alive through pain from endorphins I weep, Turn! Turn! Turn the pain over. Then, Finally, At the top, Ready to pop, Wanting with all my wanting to stop, Momentum so sloppy I very nearly flop, I start to descend, Uncoil and unbend, Begin to start the commencement of end. Over and over The air smells like clover, Over and over Let this man-machine marriage of pain cross over This crown Down, Down, Post crown, Toward the most grounded of ground From sky bluest blue To the earthiest brown, I hear the humming of the hum, Like a blood rush of the head, a beating drum, A tumbling crumb, No longer gravity’s bum. Muscles that ache, Now get a break, These limbs that gave now take, take, take take, I tear the wind with an effortless break, A piece of cake! Returning, returning legs and heart once a great campfire, now are embers burning. With each microsecond of speed I’m learning That what goes up with the greatest of pain Drops without awareness like rain, So though you think me insane, There, ahead, before me, over the smiling plain, Another mountain! So I do it again. M C Biegner 4/2005