Practicing the art of publishing and relentless Optimism against the INEVITABLE flow of time and my own self consciousness by not taking it too seriously.

New York.

Cold Ass Run

Spent the day hungover and a total slob from a birthday party. In a herculean effort to stick to my commitments [the workouts this week. The goal of the race->marathon->tri. Also the 2018 theme] I dressed up and went for a run.

First off, gloves would help. Maybe some sort of face mask.

Second, it was cold as fuckkkkkk.

But that made the park nearly abandoned, and that was cool. I felt like I owned the space more.

And as uncomfortable as it was, I was reminded that I can have no true standing to complain. I am sound of body and mind [mostly]. I do way better than survive, I thrive. I have guarantees that tomorrow will come and it will be an opportunity, not a struggle. That's precious. That's amazing. That's a blessing.

Which means, running in the windy cold is a choice. I can dive into the uncomfortable with every security I can possible imagine. Which is to say, fuck the fear. Fuck comfort. It doesn't get me where I want to be.

Strive forward. Make it painful. Make it struggle. That's where the work comes in. That's where you journey.

Way to commit. Way to follow through. Way to hop immediately into a scorching shower. :)

Commitment isn't perfect

Lifting and Stretching