Crane My Neck...Yikes

As I have said before, I try to include exercise IN my real life not as an add on. I bike or walk everywhere I have to go. For strength training I lift bags of Black Cow manure in the garden and 30 lb. grandchildren when I get the chance. (In the interest of full disclosure, I do work out twice a week at the YMCA with Matt Linn, an excellent personal trainer. He makes me push the edge of my personal envelope. Left alone, I would merely lick the envelope edge.) Today looked light. The ground resembles a kitchen sponge left overnight in the dishwater.No gardening. Plus, Blue Angel squadrons of mosquitoes buzz ominously outside the screen door waiting to inject me with Nile virus. The Riverside streets resemble the canals of Venice. No biking. It is workout with Matt day, so ROF and I decide to use the car. This is a big decision for us as we try to walk or bike almost everywhere we go.Out we go jingling car keys mournfully and dragging workout bags. But a giant crane has straddled our street like some kind of T Rex. Its chainsaw mouth is devouring the old oak that had split in two, several days ago. Our ancient Buick-- having no off road skills-- can NOT go around the crane. We call Matt whining about the giant crane and fully expect an excused absence. He is not amused. At that moment the rain stops. It is a sign. We must bike. We have time. Racing by the crane, the operator points into the air. The chainsaw has carved off a Noah's Ark sized limb and is holding it over our heads. Do we know we could die? We understand.The adrenaline rush of the near miss makes it possible for us to weave in and out of raindrops and to achieve our record time to the Riverside Y. Maybe John Lennon was right , "Life really is what happens while we are planning otherwise." Or was it the Buddha who said that?