S2S 2015

For me, Ski to Sea is never a thing of weight, unless there's something physical I want to do after. S2S is the right kind of hard for me. The right kind of pain. The right length of sore. The right amount of booze and team. Of falling asleep hard and deserving of that sleep. You get to see who gets it and what they're in for - for team, for glory, for independence, for politics, for show, to deserve the bed. I don't know if I'm getting dull or what, but I lacked a sense of celebration this year, or, it wasn't the kind of celebration I wanted for myself. I think I like the mountain best. I wish it cuckolded me through celebration the length of the event: A warm up dense in fog, in spirit, in thoughts, about Family and memories and loss and what you're about to lose. And then you see your teammate come in with incredible pain, and you feel incredible, because you can literally take the chip away from them. Your beginning is the cessation of their pain. And, I fall. And I'm never negative here. Yes, my favorite part was the mountain, thick, slick, the creamy bluehue of the creek icing, the sand as a blanket, the abductors in clench. And then, you drive off the mountain, and it's people and dogs and babies and limits and construction and cars everywhere and distraction and losing your identification and everyone hugging and I'm standing on the outside. What do I want? To lay in a field with a margarita in clutch, and all the people that know and feel humility and pain and love and pain and we all just talk nonsense. And all of a sudden we get up and we're woozy. Maybe it's just that one thing after the other shows me I am no longer fresh and it's hard to constantly acknowledge. True celebration comes now. I have no plans. I think I'll find mountains.