~30 miles to class in Plantation
~30 miles to Miami
~18 miles to class in Miami
Yesterday was the day I was biking to Miami, but I'd be stopping first-- about halfway-- for a class in Plantation.
I left as the sun had risen, feeling so motivated for the final stretch of this journey. The ride from Boca Raton to Plantation to Miami would be a straight shot down 441/SR 7.
I arrived to plantation to co-teach with Yoga Gangster's volunteers Connie and Linda.
Class was with youth at FLITE Transition Center. ~6 students, ages 13-18
After class, I told the group some of what I was doing, and one teen said, "I once did something like that. I ran from Fort Lauderdale to Boca Raton."
We were amazed by the distance and his ability and because he said he had done it for a girl.
He, realizing we were probably confusing the girl for a girlfriend, said, "Oh, it's not like that. She was suicidal and going to kill herself, and I just couldn't let that happen."
So he ran to her. Without water. And ran back.
I often feel inspired by my students and the connections I make, but this particular person/story I don't think Ill ever forget.
So I returned to 441/SR 7 to finish the last 30 miles to Miami. There are not many roads going South to Miami; it's either take 441 or Route 1.
Neither have a bike lane or a shoulder.
If in any previous blog post I mentioned the ride/road being treacherous... scratch that. This was the most dangerous ride yet. By far.
I went through several mile-long stretches of just walking with the bike because it was safer. I kept thinking about the kid who ran from Ft. Lauderdale to Boca; his determination, his (inner + outer) strength, his selflessness.
Humans are capable of anything, and I brought his energy with me the rest of the way to Miami. Riding. Walking. Riding. Walking.
And when I arrived to Miami, I sat beside the bay overlooking the Miami skyline, laying on my back with tears in my eyes recapping the hundreds of humans I was blessed to have met on this journey and thinking about how many times I wanted to give up, but I didn't.
Like Rumi says, "Something opens our wings. Something makes boredom and hurt disappear. Someone fills the cup in front of us. We taste only sacredness."
Something. But when we use logic or a name for that thing, we miss the totality of what we're trying to reach.
Today, classes were with youth from Urgent INC in Miami. Two classes ~17 students each.
Class was in a section of Miami called Overtown. In the hood. A staff member at the facility told me their building was the first new building built in Overtown in 40 years. Afterwards I had to bike by million-dollar and billion-dollar condos/homes to get back to the place where I'm staying. Oprah has a home on one of those islands.
I'm currently sitting on a balcony beside the bay overlooking downtown Miami miles away, visualizing my body moving in between the spaces of the buildings, all of the stories that have been told and all of the stories that are still waiting to be told.
Something opens our wings.