Leadville 2022 Prep Diary

Seattle mornings are always too cold, too damp, and really really quiet. This is the perfect setting to - with my shoes still unlaced- load the barbell. Feeling that hard cold steel touch my calloused hands hurts at first but then serves to remind me that I am here and that cold will not be even half as painful as when it comes time to stand my expectations up. I load the barbell and look for my belt. Where is that belt? I dont really like this song, but let it ride for the warm up. This coffee taste worse than last time, I think. But it' it'll work. I think. I wont know until a few good songs play anyway. I add a couple more problems to the barbell and wait just long enough to forget how hard it was to stand up last time. I stand up. I stand up again and again. By now my heart rate is creeping up and so is the weight of my self inflicted burdens. The shoes are laced and my cap is most likely backwards. My belt has been undone and tightened 5 or 6 times and the mountain is looming. Who am I kidding, that belt is not going to make the ascent any easier. Those two thin fabric laces holding my feet inside of my shoes are not going to make the weight dig any less into that fleshy space between my spine and my shoulders. The bar is freezing to the touch but as soon as it slides lazily off of the J cups my entire body is on fire. Now it all hangs in the balance. What has taken only an hour to get to will be how I judge the last 34 and half years of my life. At this very moment the rest of my month will be determined. At this very moment I dont know if I will self-love or self-hate for the rest of the week. As the knurling digs into my skin through my sweatshirt, today's mood is developing. In front of me the exposed studs of my garage walls are holding up the roof, protecting me from the cold air and the colder rain outside, serving as my only motivation. I can hear the rain no matter how loud J cole's voice sings "the winters were soo cooold!". Can I stand this up? Can I just go on and stand this up already? The beat drops and the weight comes up. The weight comes up and up. I can feel the skin on the tops of my legs having trouble holding their insides inside. My stomach is the same. I return the bar and undo that belt for the last time. Its damp and clammy like my t shirt and like my socks. The coffee has gone cold and I can see Luna's bedroom light is on through the drizzle. I hit the lights, slide into a worn in pair of burks, and close the garage door silencing the rain only to walk into it on my way back to reality.

-a random Wednesday morning before the sun comes up