I'm baaaack!

It all began in January, with a great swim in an outdoor pool under brilliant Bahamian sunshine.  I got my heart rate up, my muscles moving, and to avoid the metaphor that screams to be made, the water seemed to wash away months of feeling wrong and set me in the direction of feeling right.  I remembering emerging from the pool, thankful for a body that could move, brilliant blue skies, and a partner that supports my every move.  It had been too long since I’d had a good workout, and instead of feeling slow or sluggish, or negative about my lack of fitness, I actually felt fast, upbeat and inspired by my own effort.  I had no reason to feel this way, no months of training, no long efforts slogging it out but for some reason something clicked in my brain and I knew I was ready to start being me again.

It’s nearing the end of April now, and in the weeks and months since that swim I’ve gained and maintained momentum in ways I’ve not been able to in the past.   I’ve competed in five races, including a half marathon, a road race, a 6 hour mountain bike race and 2 adventure races.  I’ve reconnected with and raced with my best friend of over 20 years and have already spent two weekends out camping with my honey and my Jack.  The consistency I’ve found in waking up every day at roughly the same time, eating almost the same breakfast and spending my morning moving my body has kept me on track and feeling great.  I normally struggle with the stick-to-it-ness part and those that know me best or even hardly at all, know that I’m always in pursuit of the next shiny object. But for now, this routine suits me, and the upcoming summer and warm weather only serves to fuel the fire.

I’m also planning on adding blogging to the routine and will be posting mini-race and trip reports.  So if the spirit moves, check back.  I want to focus on the good, on the moments that result in a big toothy smile.  As I revisited this blog today for the first time in a year, I was struck by the quote I chose to place on it so long ago.  “You can complain, but its got to be funny or its just whining.”  So here is to humor, and smiles, and elevated heart rates, laughing out loud, sleeping under the stars and keeping the rubber side down.  I don’t know what the rest of this year has in store, but I’m looking forward to finding out. 

Where in the World?

I know it’s a sign that I haven’t been writing that I cant even remember the password to my blog, but after all the hoop jumping and mothers maiden name recalling, I’ve managed to log back on. I thought I would take a quick second to update the world, or the small fraction that’s interested in me, on what the heck is up!  If you been following me you know that over the past few months I’ve pretty much been around the world and back, climbed some big mountains, spent a bunch of crappy weeks taking the LSAT and applying to and ultimately not getting into law school, and now finding myself working at Mt. Rainier National Park.  I’ve been in Washington State for less then two months, and while things here are “rad” (which is way part of the vernacular here), I’m getting ready to head back east again this week.  And I’m psyched about it.  

For those of you who haven’t picked up on it yet, I’ve accepted a  Police Lady job with the Arlington County (VA) Police Department.  (Insert donut, pig, firefighter turned cop jokes here.)  I head back at the end of this week and will be starting with the ACPD shortly after. It’s a big change and a big commitment coming from me, someone who has been anything but committing over the past year, but I’m ready. I’m ready to wear a uniform again, I’m ready to earn a paycheck, and I’m ready to plug back in.  More importantly though, I’m ready to move forward with all of the unique experience I’ve gained in the past two years so yes, while I’m going back home with plans to be there for awhile, it’s a different me and I go back psyched to continue having awesome experiences.   So, once Im done with the police academy, you can look for me on the streets of Arlington on my work days, and adventuring  in the mountains on the rocks and in the snow on my days off!  As I’ve learned to say here, until then, Happy Schralping!

Not Even 30 Anymore...

Bring on 31!

On my first day of being 31 I thought I would take some time to reflect and catch up on the past few months.  Time has absolutely flown by since I boarded an Air France flight back to North America back at the beginning of August.   I’ve crossed the continent twice now, seen old friends and new, racked up hotel and rental car awards points and experienced just about every weather condition possible. 

It’s been two months since I left Mosul and I feel like I’m starting to gain perspective on the entire experience.  Unequivocally I am glad I did it.  Aside from the fact that the experience has now provided me the freedom to pursue anything I choose, the experience of travelling to and working in a war zone was worth it in and of itself.  I set out on the journey on a leap of faith that it was all going to work out for the best and aside from a minor meltdown early on, I continued to feel over the year that while honestly, it sucked, it was still a good choice to make the leap.  Two months out now I can see how it has affected me in an overwhelmingly positive way. 

Although I might not always appear to show it, the trip boosted my confidence, fueled my passions, and taught me the importance of being independent.  More than that, I learned, out of sheer necessity really, how to be comfortable being independent.  As anyone that has worked in a firehouse would agree it doesn’t matter if people surround you 24 hours a day, the firehouse can still be a very lonely place.  So for that, I am eternally grateful.   There are more lessons to come as they sort themselves out, but for now, I just feel so lucky to be home safe with my ten fingers, ten toes, and not a complete psychological mess! 

I’m nearing the end of the beginning of my time travelling.  I’m in Canmore, Alberta battling the weather but still have a few more days out planned before I fly back to DC next week.  From there, it will be time to buy a vehicle, something I’m not to psyched to do because I feel like that will somehow make me feel tied down.  Yeah, no irony there.  I’ll be in and out of the mid-Atlantic for a couple weeks before hitting the road with a new friend and climbing our way across the county.  I’m am so psyched and thankful to be having these opportunities.  So far I have only had to fight off one urge to return immediately to the workforce.  From what I hear, that urge will go away soon and Ill be surprised at how comfortable a lack of structure and unemployment become.  As a friend of mine told me as we drank beers on the bridge in Yosemite, “allow yourself to have what will probably end up being one of the best years of your life.”  Hmmm…ok. 

Rain, Snow, and Adventure Climbing: Tales from a week making it work in the Canadian Rockies

For the past six days I’ve been calling Canmore, Alberta home.   In fact, for most of the week prior while I was basking in the sun of interior BC, I would actually tell people, when asked, that I was from Canmore when I felt like having fun and/or wasn’t up to the longer truer answer that used to be simple but for now remains complicated.  Canmore sprawls along the Bow River in the Bow Valley just outside of Banff National Park.

I pretty much fell in love with Canmore on my first visit here last summer.   The Rocky Mountains stand on either side of this valley, they loom really, like extremely proud teenagers.  They aren’t old and green like the Appalachians that welcome you and make you feel at home.  Quite the contrary, these mountains almost dare you to enter them.  When I first saw them last year I had only one thought, “I need to climb better.”  Its easy to quickly feel outclassed in these hills.   But still, these mountains more then any other I have encountered, compel me to enter them.  I want to learn and train and develop the skills necessary to earn their respect so that they may grant me safe passage.   To me, these mountains present a challenge from which I simply cannot walk away.    

To that end, I came to Canmore to work with my favorite guide and mentor, a Canmore local and Canadian Rockies superhero Sarah Hueniken.  She doesn’t wear a cape, or have knee high boots and blue tights…that I know of anyway….but her  professionalism, proficiency and stymieing ability are nothing short of super powers.  This is not a love fest of smoke blowing, but a truly honest assessment that if these mountains outclass most mere mortals, then Sarah and her group of peers that guide here, are truly a cut above.

The Bow Valley finds some sun. The Three Sisters on the left.

My goals for this week weren’t especially outrageous.  I mean, after all, I just started climbing again after a year off. I am though at a point in my climbing where there is still much to learn, but I’m also not interested in necessarily just going after an objective and being lead around all day.  Ive been fortunate to work with Sarah before and know her commitment to helping folks increase their self sufficiency so when I emailed her and said, “I want to hire you for a week, but I want to lead most of it,” I knew she would be keen. 

The story this week was the weather.  To quote, “this is the worst f#*&@ing weather we have ever had.”  Our first day, Monday, was a total washout and turned into a rest day for me which was probably a good thing given I had just spent five days clipping bolts and getting pumped in Skaha.  Sarah and I agreed to remain optimistic about Tuesday even though the forecast was poor.  We decided to check in with each other in the morning and after a short delay we finally met up and headed out on Tuesday around 8 am…in the rain.  We spent two hours driving around the entire area trying really just to see some routes through the low gray clouds.  We struck out completely, and in an effort to salvage the day we headed back to Canmore and the local crag Grassi Lakes.

Grassi is a sport crag full of pocketed overhanging walls with friendly bolts.  Knowing that I was interested in getting on the sharp end, Sarah offered up the first lead to me.  Given conditions and my general insecurities that creep in when climbing around amazing climbers, whether they are your guide or not, it was actually a surprisingly bold move on my part that I accepted the rope and jumped on the route.  It was an overhanging 5.8 or 9 with a million bolts that I managed to climb cleanly.  When I was back safely on the ground, Sarah offered up some much desired, and apparently needed, advice on my form and movement.  First words out of her mouth, “Ok, this isn’t ice climbing.”   You wouldn’t know it given the temps, but her point was that my movements weren’t dynamic.  Hands, hands, feet, feet, more like climbing a ladder rather than actually being dynamic and utilizing the features of the rock in the most beneficial way.  We talked about twist locks, using both sides of my feet, extending my reach, and using the most appropriate part of a hold even if its not the most positive or intuitive feeling.   

These are pretty basic concepts, but Ill admit, I hadn’t really thought about it in the ways she had described, nor had I really been on routes tough enough that it demanded that solid of technique.  We spent part of the day climbing routes just above my grade so I could apply the lessons of my first climb and when I was thoroughly pumped we switch into some rescue technique reviews and quizzes.  All in all a shitty weather day but we made it work.

One of the super featured walls at Grassi Lakes.

Wednesday turned out to be one of our best weather days of the week but given the snow in high elevations, chilly temps, and threat of afternoon rain we decided on an objective right in town, the East Ridge of Lady Macdonald.  Lady Mac is one of those proud mountains that looms over town so I was definitely keen to get on the climb.  In what turned out to be on of the nicest surprises and addition to this week, Sarah’s friend Claire joined us for the day.  The plan was to let me have a go at leading the route with Claire as my second.  This allowed Sarah to solo around on the easier bits and provide coaching for both of us.  This is a wickedly awesome opportunity not often dealt out by a guide and really priceless in terms of developing climbers.    After a tough 2 hour approach requiring multiple stream crossings and a steep scramble we roped up and headed towards the ridge. 

This was my re-introduction to the crumbling rock of the Canadian Rockies and climbing in mountaineering boots and while it got my attention I felt pretty comfortable. Its most likely because Sarah was normally just a few feet in front of me giving me what she called “a false sense of security.”  When we got to the business pitch of the trip, I changed into my climbing shoes and Sarah tied into the rope. Pretty good compromises I think.  Sarah offered to take my pack, but in my continued random acts of boldness I kept it on and headed off.   I brought them both up and we continued on to the ridge and short pitching and short pitching and short pitching. 

Getting down to business on the East Ridge of Lady Mac. A quick pitch to gain the ridge proper.  Mad kudos to Sarah H., my Fairy Guide Mother, for a sweet photo!

In my limited experience short pitching along a ridge seems to equal: Take up coils, climb for 15 meters, maybe put in one piece of pro along the way, find something remotely resembling an anchor, straddle some rock and bring up or over your second.  Repeat. Repeat and repeat.  While at times it became tedious the experience of doing it over and over again actually really just reinforced the lesson of what we were doing. It was a great learning experience.  All along the way Sarah was dropping hints, I mean, educating me, about ways to be more efficient because speed is safety in mountains…and we were cold and the skies were looking ugly.  Good bits of wisdom like when you are bringing up your second, look ahead to the next pitch, if you are going to transition modes do what you can while they are climbing to be ready for that…ergo…if you have the full rope out and are switching to short pitches, start taking up coils while you are belaying.  At the time, the thought of doing that pretty much blew my mind, I had enough to manage, but I look forward to continue practicing that and the other things we covered.  We topped out on Lady Mac and after a brief stop at an abandoned tea house where we finally were allowed to eat, drink, and pee and laugh, we headed down the hikers walk off in the rain.  Claire was a super trooper, a patient climber and an absolute joy to have along.  Awesome day.

Working the 5.5 ridge.

Thursday turned out to be a full on weather day and we elected to go to our corners stay dry and rest up for another big day on Friday.  I got a good gym workout in the hotel fitness center and felt pleased that my body wasn’t wrecked from the 10 hour effort the day before.   Sweet, all that time in the gym in Iraq paid off.

Fridays weather was tenuous.  Big kudos for Sarah and her part time work as a meteorologist.  Constantly checking all of the websites and webcams to find the warmest and driest routes for us to get on.  Basically just trying to find a way to make it work.   On Friday we were joined by Laurie, aka Zippy, one of my favorite people to get out with, and we headed to Takkakaw Falls optimistic that the snow line would be above us and that we might by chance get some afternoon sun.  It wasn’t actively raining and we were all in good spirits so we set off to what rockclimbing.com calls “the worst rock climbing in North America in the most amazing setting in North America.” 

The plan was for Zippy and I to swing leads on the 10 pitches of traversing and 5.6 climbing.  When we got to the base of the quartzite route the first pitch was dripping wet with puddles in the positive holds.  Sarah decided it was best for her to jump out front so we could get used to the wet rock, climbing with gloves, and socks in our climbing shoes.  A pretty good idea given the mind fuck that wet rock can cause.   After the first pitch we did swing leads and had a great time wondering up the large face alongside a gigantic waterfall. 

Off I go into the wetness on Takkakaw.

We got to one of the more difficult pitches and it was my lead.  Just before I left the anchor Sarah mentioned that there is a move on this pitch that always gets her attention.  Even though it was protected by a bolt I could probably have done without that level of honesty from her whereas I climbed up to the crux and completely unfocused took a short whipper.   Bummed but not pissed that I didn’t climb the route cleanly I did jump back on work through it and finish the pitch complete with a crappy .75 placement  that its probably good I didn’t fall on.  I brought up those two gals and Sarah linked up the rest of the pitches  which ultimately dead ended in a 60 meter belly crawl through a cave! Wtf! Awesome adventure climbing.  We stripped everything off our harnesses, donned our plastic pants (rain paints) and headed into the abyss.  I love caving, always have, and the best part is always the accompanying soundtrack of laughter, grunting and most often when it involves adults, an exceptional amount of cussing.   This was no exception.

The tunnel opened up to the very top of the falls.  We were tucked away where none of the myriads of binocular touting tourists could see us.  We sat and enjoyed the view and had a very serious, all be it bizarre and troubling conversation about how we would jump across the falls to the rock on the other side if for some reason our lives depended on it.  Thankfully we were safe that day and didn’t have to test any of our theories.  We ducked back in the cave, repeated the string of grunting and expletives, and set off on reversing the route through a series of rappels and traverses.  

Zippy and I pondering how we would make the leap across.

As we finished the route blue skies were nearly everywhere and the bright sunshine warmed our very chilly bodies.  Rockclimbing.coms description of the route was really only half true, the climbing was fun and not terrible but it just might have been one of the most beautiful places in North America.   We ended the day with beers and dinner at the Post in Lake Louise satisfied from a great day.  As usual we were probably a bit rowdy with laughter for the Post, but it was awesome nonetheless.

Two girls and their guide on the summit. No Jumping allowed.

So what was initially planned to be five full days of climbing turned into three weather driven and differently challenging days.  I can already tell that I am a better and more confident climber than I was a week ago.  Ive identified some weaknesses, one in particular that could really fuck me some day, and got some really positive feedback about the things I’m doing well.  Under really difficult circumstances Sarah pulled together some very educational and fun days. 

Yosemite Photo Blog

Back in August, me and some of my homies, yeah these guys are some of them, went to Yosemite....and got SCHOOLED! There is just too much to say about this trip so Im just going to throw up some photos.  All in all...battleing frigid and scorching temps, mind blowing runouts, and some really long approaches we had a great time and major learning occurred! This trip represented my official full on return to climbing and while my climbing wasn't where I wanted it to be, Im psyched I went and was super lucky to have wonderfully patient and fun partners.

So that over there on the right is a pic taken in Tuolumne....we spent a few days up there trying to get used to the rock and the weather...9000 feet and full on snow, hail, rain, etc.

As a result of the temps and us getting our bearings we went out to do some top roping for a bit and even that proved to be difficult!  Colleen busted out all of her SPI magic although my favorite quote from this day was uttered just after I was lowered over the edge: "Oh, this is never going to work." Pretty sure this picture was taken just following what never worked. 

It was warm for a second, and I got bored...so, well push ups seemed like a good idea.

This is Ana topping out on Holdless Horror, a sweet 4 pitch 5.6 in Tuolume that we swapped leads on. Ana got the business pitches and did an awesome job. Super fun day on Dozier Dome.

   This is Dozier Dome....Holdess Horror and Bull Dozier routes are to the right of center.

After a few really cold, but clear days in Tuolumne, we were all ready to head to the Valley where we heard it was still summer. We had dreams of climbing in capris, (yes the boys too!) and tank tops and generally feeling our extremities again.  Our drive down into the Valley was spectacular and our first glimpse of the great ones was awesome....

Unless you live under a rock instead of on one, you probably recognize these guys...the jewels of the Valley El Capitan and Half Dome.

On the major list of "donts" that we learned about the hard way was Curry Village. On paper, err,  I guess on line it seemed like a good idea at the time. Little tent cabins and amenities near by.  Sure, there were little tent cabins, and they were cute, but there were 900 little tent cabins and this isnt my usual hyperbole.  We had just come from a nice quiet campsite up in the meadows and we all experience major culture shock when we rejoined "the people" and the American LARGESS in Curry Village. 

These rows of tents went on and on and on.....we got lost numerous times trying to find our shanty.  They were though warm and comfortable with nice beds and linens.  I had the extreme pleasure of having the next door bathhouse light in my face each night which added extra charm.

In an effort to get on one of the major classics, Colleen and I opted to share a guide for the 16 pitch 5.7 A0 Royal Arches.  It was a long long meandering day but definitely worth the time and energy...even if it meant 10 rappels in blazing hot sun.

On the last climbing day of our trip, three of us, Colleen, Edwin and myself went after another classic, this time the 5.7 on Half Dome.  With a daunting six mile approach, a million pitches of runout slab, and a nine mile descent, we were successful in making it a complete epic that took 22 hours including wandering around on top of Half Dome in the super dark looking for the descent cables, some granite steps, and trying desperately to quite literally not walk off a cliff.  I hate to say it, but if Colleen hadn't been able to pull up some much needed beta on her iPhone, we might still be up there.

Snake Dike follows the left horizon...forever....and tops out with 2000 feet of Class 3 slabs to nowhere.

Better get out the flag while we still have sunlight...the summit was at least another hour away at this point, but it still made for a good picture! Thanks Edwin and Colls for a helluva a day!

It was a great trip full of interesting surprises, challenging moments, loads of laughter, singing and the occasional speeding ticket. We encountered nearly every weather condition imaginable and definitely got ourselves into climbing that got our attention.  Ill look forward to going back a little bit stronger and a whole lot wiser!

One last picture....because I think its cool! One of our late night food fests in Tuolumne......

Repost from Chicks Climbing Blog. "Defining Adventure"

This is a repost from a blog entry I did for Chicks With Picks last Winter.  The words continue to ring true for me as I get ready to make another move.

by: Sarah Goldman
My words hung, suspended in air above the table. I could see each member of my fire department duty shift processing what I had just said. “I am resigning, effective immediately. I’ve accepted a contract firefighting position in Iraq.“ The only thing louder than the silence in the room was my heart thumping in my chest and my throat. I watched the words sink in; I could see the judgments forming. It was the same each time I had told someone about my decision and upcoming adventure.

What makes me, a woman on the brink of my 30s with a solid secure job and the freedom to find as many climbing days as the calendar allows, chuck it all and travel 8000 miles away to a seemingly endless, unpopular war with zero opportunity to climb, enjoy a microbrew, or sport a nose piercing? Change? Risk? Adventure? Opportunity? Hope? The pursuit of a wild dream? All of the above?

As I think more about these words and the spirit behind them, I realize these are the reasons so many of us are drawn to climb. As climbers and adventurers, we look at a massive granite spire and think, “what if?” It is in the same spirit that we eye a job opening in Boulder from home in Cincinnati and think “why not now?” I left stability in Virginia and came to Iraq because I was due for an adventure and even more ready for change.

I’ve known it was time to shake things up since my first Chicks With Picks experience nearly 2 years ago. My life, while exceptionally comfortable and one no doubt worthy of envy, had left me feeling cornered, firmly entrenched in a rut and just plain bored. I liked my job as a firefighter, but I knew that it wasn’t going to be my life’s work. I’d spent the past 20 years in Virginia and finally accepted its highest point tops out at barely 5000 feet, so I knew a change of scenery was needed. I suppose I was happy enough, but passionate? Excited? Energized? Not so much.

There are many who don’t understand why I would walk away from what I had, but these often seem to be the same people who don’t understand why we clip bolts, plug gear and stick hard ice. For the most part these same people value, consistency over spontaneity, financial stability over chance, and resorts over road trips. Adventurers are people of courage, people of faith. Faith that things work out, that the universe will provide. They are doers and decision makers. Most often they are not shy and they are not timid. They act when others choose to idle. They choose the risk, when others choose security. Adventure is both a state of being and a state of doing. It is in some, and definitely not in others.

I applied for the position in Iraq and kept expecting for it to somehow not work out. When the doors kept opening and the reality set in that this decision was now going to be up to me, and not the universe to make, I knew, being me, I had to take the chance. Just as any of you cant deny an offer to scope a new crag, or try a new route. I got the call while sitting on a park bench in Calgary, after three amazing weeks in Alberta. My life in Virginia was literally and figuratively thousands of miles away.

I have been in Iraq now for nearly 3 months. The time both crawls and flies depending on my mood. I live in a firehouse on an Army Forward Operating Base with around 25 other firefighters. Each day is the same. Morning meeting, eat, train, eat, work out, eat, call home, dream, repeat. The work is not hard, and I feel fortunate that through my adventure I have the opportunity to support and protect thousands of men and women in the military. Whatever your views on this war, these men and women are sacrificing on our behalf and that cannot be overlooked or underappreciated.

Unlike the members of the military, who do not have an option, I don’t plan to be here long; as I mentioned, being a firefighter is not my life work. I‘ll be here until next summer, or maybe a bit longer. For me, this is a year of transition. It is my first move. Due to responsibilities back home, changing my life couldn’t happen overnight, and I’ll venture to say for anyone over the age of 21 this is probably the case. If it, the adventurist spirit, is in you, which, if you have found your way to this blog it most likely is, and you feel the stink of stagnation into your life, then act. Consider your wildest dreams; consider the life you wish you were having. I don’t know what is next for me, but I take comfort in knowing what is not. I plan to pursue my wildest dream, or dreams as it may turn out to be. As we say in climbing, make the first move, and the next will appear.

Perhaps one of the greatest compliments I have ever been given came from the Head Chick when I told her I had skipped the states and would be working in Iraq. She called me a true adventurer. Thank you Kim, and all of the Chicks touting picks. I didn’t get here alone and Ill enjoy the help finding my way home. Leave the anchors set, I’ll be back soon.

Check out the rest of the blog and all its awesomeness at:

http://www.chickswithpicks.net/alumnae-news/defining-adventure/

Its Different

I spent part of my morning today watching Nike ads on You Tube and the Tour de France on Versus.  As a result Im overflowing with mojo and swirling in psych.  At the same time, Im dizzy, and Im standing.  Lately, Ive begun to realize, that for the first time, in a ridiculously long time, if not perhaps ever, I am getting ready to embark on a journey for which I have no idea the destination.  

I am Virgo. I hear that makes me competitive and goal oriented.  I am a planner.  Most of my life decisions are strategic.  No doubt the decisions to leave Fairfax, come to Iraq, quit the Fire Department, and now ultimately leave Iraq have all been with an endgame in sight.    I wanted to have the time and resources to do whatever I wanted. To pursue any dream, any whim, any curiosity.  And through my deliberate decision making and thought out planning I have that.  Mission Accomplished.  In about one week Ill be looking down the barrel at a clean slate and boundless opportunity, but there is no goal at the end, no finish line.

I am going to spend the next fair bit of time dedicating my days to climbing and pursuing other outdoor sports along the way.  Ill be focusing on being vertical, my health, my wellness and on all the people who will come along the way.  The part that is different about this is that I’m doing it, just to do it.   Its not a part of some grand scheme or a step in a path.  Not really anyway. 

Yes, it freaks me out that I have no plan, but I’m recognizing that on some days I’m more ok with it than I might have ever imagined.  On those days, I’m content to surf the current of the universe.  This flies in the face of the part of me that always wonders what I am going to be next and how I can meticulously, obsessively, plot how to get there.  Letting go of that drive is liberating.  Surprising for some of you reading this that can probably remember me saying, “Im going to be President of the United States.”  And when you gave me the “that’s nice” smile, I grabbed you with both hands and said, “I’m serious,” and I meant it.

But on other days, the Virgo in me rears her head and out comes the notebook, the internet, usajobs.gov, the guidebooks, the AMGA pre-requisites, the 0-6 month, the 6-18 month and the 18-36 month plans.   On those days I wonder if meeting my goals, whatever they are, is just a matter of proper scheduling and asking the right people for advice.   

In the end though no matter which type of day it is or how at any particular moment I’m feeling, when it comes right down to it, I don’t know where the next year will take me.  And I don’t care. I want to do this because I genuinely want the experiences I am about to have.  I have a bit of an idea where it might lead, but if it doesn’t I’m open to that too because its not the reason for the journey.  Not today, anyway.