Yes I did go to OsteoStrong today in spite of a cranky low back and am glad I did. The folks there are so kind. We’ve developed a very sweet connection. It’s a bit of a drive but I like driving and going on road trips. The 281 is a great alternative to Interstate 35 if you live in the Texas Hill Country and want to travel to San Antonio or further south.
FUN FACT: I just learned this today. US 281 is the longest three number US Highway that goes from the border of Mexico all the way up to Canada. It traverses six states in its vertical run through North America.
On my way home from my OsteoStrong session in San Antonio this afternoon I was feeling a bit melancholy but doing my best to be cheerful. I had the a.c. cranked and the radio on full blast. I’ve been known to belt out some songs in my car so that was my half-mood. The other half was arguing for skepticism. You know, you’re much safer to bet on pessimism, or so they say, but I generally can’t bear it.
Anyway, I was in the passing lane of the Northbound 281, a few miles up from the massive highway expansion that’s been underway since when I first traveled this road last year for major surgery. The trek itself has left a mark on me as a journey into the wild unknown. Last year I might’ve found out I was lucky or I might’ve learned I had stage 3 colon cancer. Fortunately, I got lucky. I also had a stellar surgeon.
Traffic was fairly heavy. I noticed a pretty white sedan behind me. Had I seen it before? Or was it just my imagination? I watched this car in my rear-view mirror half thinking, you’re crazy, the other half sensing a possible “coincidental” convergence. A mile or so before the Boerne exit, the white sedan pulled up just ahead of me in the adjacent lane. There was a moment when I could’ve glanced over to acknowledge the driver but I didn’t and the car dropped back and exited.
On the face of things, this is no big deal. Just a moment in time. Quite possibly nothing at all. But it made me wonder. In fact this encounter made my day, even though I froze. I caught myself being a coward. Better still, I’m taking it as confirmation that Tony Robbins is right. The difference between winning and losing in life; falling in love or falling into despair; having stage 1 or metastatic cancer, is often just two millimeters. A tiny adjustment can change everything.
It’s impossible to predict “chance” encounters or to plan with any certainty the unpredictable twists and turns on the road ahead but I’ve decided I will no longer choose the skeptical side of the equation. It may take practice but the next time life says “Hey you”, I’m responding. 🎉And I’m going to start practicing by saying yes when the resident pessimist argues for no. A subtle kind of Inner Tennis.