You can find this song, and this song can find you. It was an auditory theme, at once the sound of my tough-stuff stamina, a distraction from my tough-stuff stamina, and the necessary aid to my tough-stuff stamina. Rumor has it, dooo oooh.” This song was in my brain, in my bones, in my muscles. I remember panting the lyrics at a friend, wheezing desperately, “Who sings this!?” It was in every heave, every steady push: “Rumor has it, dooo oooh. Like a spiritual epiphany from an airport memoir, it emerged like an angel from nowhere in my time of greatest need. For three long days on my trip, I had an Adele song absolutely raging in my head the whole time, churning me through every pedal stroke. Several years ago, I biked across Montana.
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