Life sometimes gives us smooth days. Ones that make us feel like an Olympic rower, slicing through glassy waters, unstoppable by anything but our own force or will. Then there are days that stop us cold. Circumstances, events, general crap crops up and we morph from graceful sculler to a third-rate performer in a back alley circus trying to keep the plates spinning, and failing.
I have so much to spill about Laos and family and eating in the jungle and how I’m sure the new session of boot camp this week is going to kill me, but today I’m spinning plates. Stressing won’t clean up the mess—Guys, I couldn’t even drink my coffee this morning, so you know it’s bad—so I’ll attack the problem and think of smoother days. Looking at pictures that let me breathe helps.
I’ll be back to rowing form soon.
Seems a lot of my breathing happens in British Columbia.