I probably shouldn't tell anybody this. But if you know me, you've heard me say this, or read something that said it- I LOVE going fast!!!
I used to run like the wind- until we lived in Kotzebue I was always the fastest girl in my grade, and could often beat the guys in a race. In fact, in Oregon the only guy who could outrun me was Bobby and he was Olympic material- at least we all thought he was. He could run so fast! But so could I. ;)
It wasn't until I lived in Kotzebue and spent most of the winter inside, plus went through the nastiness of adolescence that I slowed down. I mourn the loss of speed. I used to LOVE running fast- the wind on my face, the feeling of gliding over the ground...
Now the closest I can get to that is driving. I LOVE to drive fast. I'm careful. More careful than I used to be, for sure! I've only gotten one ticket- driving through Arkansas to get to Memphis. My sister needed me.
(After 6 years at UAF without graduating, she decided to go to Memphis School of Art to try and see if the focus of an art school would get her a degree more easily. She hated it. She lasted one week- she'd already done most of the art classes at UAF and they wanted to start her all over. Most of her credits wouldn't transfer, so my 24 year old sister was stuck back in the freshman beginning classes with all these 18 year olds and she was going crazy after one week.)
I had a specific amount of time to get there, and I ran into this HUGE construction mess, had to make a nasty detour through an old country highway, and I was HOURS behind when I told her I'd be there. I stopped and tried to call her, couldn't get through, so I was speeding. I didn't want her to flip out and get worried. I don't remember how much too fast, (Probably 80ish, that car couldn't go terribly fast!) but I do know this... I was passing a bunch of trucks and when the cop pulled me over to get the ticket, they radioed him so he'd tell me that my rooftop carrier was flapping in the wind. It was megga hot, and I didn't have AC. All my windows were down, I was wearing shorts, and I've got an idea my rooftop carrier wasn't the only thing the truckers were commenting on....
Anyway... I love going fast! My mom's truck goes pretty fast. ;) And here's the big secret. (I've buried it, so that if you're just skimming this you might not catch it.) Our speedometer does not work. Our ABS went down, and was making this constant screaming noise. Nasty LOUD screaming noise. And for some weird mechanical reason when they turned the ABS off, it turned off the speedometer. Weird.
So now I've got two ways of knowing my speed- the traffic around me, and the RPM meter. I've gotten pretty good at telling the speed we're going, but the traffic around me is not a good way to figure it out up here. Particularly when I'm on the road by myself, which happens a lot. (Everybody down south is jealous now! You should be! Do you know how often I get to be on the highway by myself? A LOT! Almost like long Company trips through the back roads of Texas. Except it's not! It's downtown Fairbanks. :) Our traffic rush hour around 8 and 5 means it will take 20 minutes to get home from UAF, as opposed to 10... )
I'm more careful when I've got the girls in the car. I'm more careful 'cuz I'm a mommy and my girls need me to not get in some nasty car crash. I'm more careful 'cuz my neck is so totally messed up. I'm more careful now 'cuz I'm older. But, man, o man. Do I love to go fast.
If I believed in past lives I'd guess I was a bird or a cheetah before... Or maybe one of the Wright brothers. Or a sprint racer....
I'm so glad Jake gave me a bike last year! Riding my bike is almost like running. I love the wind in my face, and going fast.
I hope that when we get to heaven I really can fly! :) Wouldn't that be great??!
Imperfection is Perfection
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