As I sit on my deck this morning, buckled safely into my wheelchair, just in case, I wonder where adventure has gone. I don't remember adventure coming to tell me she was leaving and I sure haven't said goodbye, so how do I find her?
When I first realized adventure was my travelling companion, it was when I chose to figure out what made me different from so many of my friends. I realized that I chose to risk being wet and cold and uncomfortable while they were on their couches with gas heat and popcorn. But I also realized that I was alone on the top of Lookout Mountain overlooking buffalo and the city of Boulder, Colorado, and an RV used as a love shack all while those same friends were watching some rerun of a stupid sitcom. And they thought I was the crazy one!
Now as Rex, another lover of adventure fights to walk and move again and then decide how to best risk living or dying, and I have people come ride my motorcycle because I can't, I ask where she went.
ADVENTURE, WHERE ARE YOU HIDING? PLEASE COME BACK.
Rex knows, and I know that juat like when we've seen adventure before, itbwas because we put ourselves out there. She rarely comes to visit you in your PJs and recliner. She comes around when you choose to step out.
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