Practice dying to live with perspective

When you say hello try and mean it.  It is a simple gift, but it reverberates to our marrow.  It sets the stage for good bye.  There is a part of Albuquerque called San Jo, short for San Jose.  I had a cousin who represented this area as a boxer.  He was born on this date.  As I have posted previously, he was violently murdered, wasting talent and a good heart.  I can see his grave marker, a concrete boxing ring with ropes and all, when I drive south on I-25.  He reminds me of the work that can be done in our Albuquerque communities.

I think of him when i am in a tough workout.  I try to think of the struggle he put up in his last hours alive.  I think of him when I can taste the iron in the back of my throat.  I think of him when each breath is in itself exhausting.  I think of him when my muscle are filled with lactic acid and they become unreliable.  I think of him when I reach that dizziness that only lets me concentrate on breathing and movements motivated by muscle memory.  My workouts finish and I rest.  I think to myself how that workout might be practice for death.  The anxiety of life is a hello to struggle.

Before each workout I get nervous because I despise the exhaustion and fatigue that leaves me vulnerable and cashed.  With every hello to a workout there is a deep connection to the living experience, the moment, and it ends.  It ends with what feels like heaven.  They call it a natural high and it is a reward for saying hello and trusting the good bye.

Happy Birthday Primo!