Five or six days a week I exercise a hour day. I gulp down beet juice, listen to Foxing’s Nearer My God, have a transcendent experience running up the big hill around mile five, and then, this new melted version of myself, is dedicated back to thinking life is good again. I’ll walk up the neverending staircase and listen to Desert Oracle or The Zach Lowe podcast until a sandwich worth of calories are zapped from my cells. I’ll play basketball with the three point shooting youths, and survive off blocking shots and devouring rebounds and cursing after every kittening missed layup.
Dream Big. Work Hard.
