perspective

last night i did, imho, poorly at the climbing gym. overhangs were the reason for the season, and i spectacularly wasn't cutting it. on the face climbs, i'm solid, even with the old GI distress. the funky taste is back in force and won't go away. sleep hasn't been great lately, and work stress has returned.

and then, from the peak of the last of a triset of heavy deadlifts, with the world's best lifting/climbing/driving/dance music irritating my neighbors, with the sun on my face, the memory of love in my mind, fresh air in my lungs, and not a scape on my shins, i remembered: life is good, after all.