10/24/11
I love the anticipation of a workout. The way it can be sometimes. The feeling is not nervousness, at least in the conventional sense. This is more like Christmas or a wedding night for virgins. This is when you know you are going to kick some ass and the only question is how bad. A sort of lust for speed and watches; knowledge of times and distances covered. This is the passion for something meeting the completion of work necessary to stand in that “field” of passion. The feeling is singular, as are most moments of being part of something bigger than the moment.
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