I know the road from Benevento to Campobasso like the back of my hand, I have left a little piece of my heart in every bend. I’ve ridden it hundreds of times, in rain, sun and sometimes snow. Always at impossible times: at 6 in the morning or late in the evening. The speed maintained was constant, what matters is the average which determines the final time. The changes from one extreme to the other are useless, at stake is the observance of the rules even along the state road that unites two lands, Sannio and Molise, which have a lot in common.
If it were possible, I could now do those 67 kilometers with my eyes closed, remembering the many sacrifices, the anxiety of returning, so as not to take away even a minute from my job, which I love. How many things have passed through my mind, in these years. I was able to reflect, while traveling, think about what I was not able to do, the satisfactions received, the pains experienced. They say that time is a gentleman because, suddenly, it gives back what has been lost or taken away.
I don’t know if this is really the case, certain absences are unbridgeable and unfortunately leave room only for infinite sweetness and nostalgia. They are the springs that push us to move forward, to always give our best, to honor the memory and convey respect for it. It’s not easy at all, you need a good dose of balance, feet strictly on the ground, anchored to reality. Flights of fancy are prohibited, a cool mind and maximum attention.
The one I didn’t use during the week: in view of crossing a particularly important finish line, I drove while my heart was beating so strongly with emotion, to the point of not realizing the risk I was taking: running into the terrible links of one of the speed cameras placed along the route. Expensive traps, woe betide you if you end up in them. I smiled with those who were in my company: we got through it, luckily. To hell with the points on my license and the fines, at least this time I earned a bit of good luck. I was very happy that day.
