Genes are a funny thing aren’t they. I’ve got green eyes and olive skin, yet my sister has blue eyes and fair skin…my brothers all have ginger beards, as does my son. How we look is something we just have no say in when we are born. But what goes on inside is also something we have no say in – I’m not talking about our emotions or our feelings. I’m talking about all that gooey stuff on the inside that controls how our body works – the stuff we don’t see like blood, chromosomes and even cholesterol.
That #bestnine on Instagram is a funny thing isn’t it…you let a computer algorithm decide your highlights for the year. It’s the anomaly that exists on social media that we post the best of ourselves, the way we want the world to see us: the Wheel Women #bestnine is a glorious exposé of wins, success, fun, laughter and a little bit of adventure. But the saddest part is that I had to ask a friend to remind me what was great in the year almost gone.
No computer algorithm could remind me of the loss, the frustration, the hard work, the late nights, the disagreements, the tears…oh yes, and sometimes the incredible lack of tears behind the pictures. Fighting against that human spirit when it falls in a heap is like climbing a small Everest, and no algorithm will ever be able to detect the pain behind some of the pictures it selects as your #bestnine. Continue reading The winning…and the losing. So that was 2018.
“If I could just stop all the heavy breathing I’d be happy, but hang on…it’s okay, I’m walking up a hill. This must be okay, anybody would puff up this hill. Gosh I’m so sweaty today too…it’s not that hot. But yep, I’m working out walking up this hill, it’s hard work, maybe I should get some leggings for this…I’m sure everyone puffs and pants up this one.” Continue reading The fear of not making 52…