Today’s workout was the fit test, which marks the start of the third week of this hell. It was tough, because Saturday’s basketball extravaganza was tougher on my knees than I thought, and I went kayaking for about an hour yesterday.
Here’s where we stand today, two weeks after the first fit test. I’d imagine I’m around 6’ish pounds down at this point.
I’m happy with the progress, and excited about what’s on the horizon. My energy level has been incredible for the last couple of months, which is something I had been lacking consistently for the better part of 3 years. It’s really hit its peak in the past few weeks.
Every year around graduation time, I get a little introspective. I get the itch to pack up my car, and just go, like I did that one summer.
Not because spending over 40 hours in a car, mostly alone, is fun, but for what that experience represented. I literally had the whole damn country on the horizon when I set out on 40 that day from Wilmington. I had a diploma, and more importantly, a dream.
I was a thousand miles from home, driving through the Midwest at 5:30 in the morning, with a storm swirling overhead that felt an awful lot like Twister.
It was awesome.
It was living the world outside of my bubble of my neighborhood in northern Durham, or my little townhouse in Wilmington. It was the childlike wonder, that has you driving through cornfields near Mount Vernon, Ill., before dawn, thinking things could be coming to an end very shortly. You’ll do crazy, stupid things to chase a dream.
Sometimes you have to drive 6,000 miles in a summer to realize your dream was bullshit.
My dream when I was 22 was to make a boatload of money, followed by a few other ideas that 22-year old dudes have. (2 chicks at the same time!) Four years later, money is ranked somewhere between No. 3 and No. 8 on my priority list, depending on the day. (2 chicks at the same time remains fairly high, though.)
I’ve realized over the past 6 months that making money isn’t a sustainable aspiration. It wears you down. You try to fit yourself into whatever role you think will get you there fastest. You sell your soul and your creativity to live their rules. You start thinking you’re what you’ve let them make you. You start thinking your identity is tied to a quota and a paycheck.
I stopped being a number in January. It’s nice. No matter how stuck you feel, it’s never too late to be who you were, or who you want to be.
The only sustainable aspiration, is the aspiration to live passionately.
So, we’re trying to get better at doing that now.
We’ll see where it ends up. I have a feeling I know where it will.