March on

I was an athlete once, and if I can say this without my head swelling too much, a damn good one. I let that fade a bit this past year, and it took a toll on me. I forgot that physical activity, and more importantly, competing, keeps me sane, and focuses the rest of my life. Without pushing my body to the breaking point on a fairly regular basis I am a shell of a human. I get bogged down in the everyday minutia that drivers people insane. I was built to push—not human capacity, for there are many out there that can put me to shame, and I am never going to garner a sponsorship—my own limits. I heal at an alarming rate and have an incredible pain threshold. My goal this year is to channel that talent, and get back to the insanity that once defined me.