It wasn’t hard to live in a small studio, with four walls covered in gear, and a bed that was an altitude tent.
It wasn’t hard to own only running shoes.
It wasn’t hard to be too tired to be social.
Or too hungry to wait for friends to eat with.
It wasn’t too hard to wake up before the world. So I could use the world as my training grounds.
Or to go to bed before half time of the football game, or the last innings of the world series.
It wasn’t too hard to go to the gym, or the ER after a race.
It wasn’t too hard because I was chasing my dream. Because I was living my passions.