We are not accountants, lawyers, or thieves.
We are not a swimmers, bikers, or runners.
We are not triathletes.
And we are definitely not our thoughts.
I love endurance sport because it rips away pretense. When you’re at mile 20 of an Ironman run, “thought” drills to that exact moment.
We evolve or die.
Fear no longer consumes us. We exist. Shallow desire fades away.
Validation isn’t necessary. We are at our worst, which makes us our best.
We are stark raving mad, and recognizing that is the first step toward remaining sane.
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