Jock for a Week

I'm not given to exuberance.

Just yesterday, in this same space, I was exorcising some vocational angst that happened well over 4 years ago. As a friend of mine put it, I never let a good grudge go to waste.

That said, I'd like to gloat about the last 7 glorious days.
And take in some refreshing positivity.

I just completed my symbolic swim across the English Channel. 20 miles in one week. Considering my age -- and we don't need to get into specific numbers -- that's quite the accomplishment. I've run the LA Marathon (and these days who hasn't) three times but this was even tougher. And thus, more rewarding.
Not to mention the fact that we raised more than $3500 for the Wounded Warriors, a worthy cause if ever there was one.

I also enjoyed 10 days of not working. Usually there's some despondency after a job ends. But no sooner had I completed one job than I got the call booking me for the next one. And any freelancer will tell you, time off between projects is heavenly.

Excessive shoulder pain and minor sunburn notwithstanding, last week was about as good as it gets.

I slept late, needing all the rest I could get.
I read, plowing through Laura Hillenbrand's Unbroken.
I watched the NBA playoffs.
I took daytime naps in my hammock, again getting more rest.
And I ate.
Throwing calorie counts and carb restrictions to the wind.

In other words, for a week I led the life of Olympic swimmer Michael Phelps.
But today I am back at work, sitting at a desk, watching what I eat and figuring out how to pay this month's mortgage.

This week, I'm back to the life of Michael Phelps' mother.