dreamgirl

i ran on the beach today, and lately, i haven't been able to make it past the manhattan pier. shy of just half a mile, the cool, dark presence of the pier signals my body to stop. and so i do. i stand under the shadows just inches from where the waves break while i plan the next segment of my workout.

but today my legs carried me. they were moving--nay, hauling. this time i not only let the cool shadows of the manhattan pier pass over me but i didn't stop until the hermosa pier was behind me either. i was honestly impressed with my stamina and wondered if the banana pancakes i had made for myself for lunch was the real hero.

as i made my way back towards manhattan, a vivid daydream began to form...

i was sitting face-to-face with the beach volleyball trainer who i have worked with only once so far...coffee shop (are you surprised?)...telling her that i was willing to keep chipping away at my savings account...that if she wanted me to be at the beach at 3 a.m., i would bring a flashlight...that she didn't have to be my friend, or even like me...all she had to do was train me. hard. the words came out of my mouth: i want to sell my soul to you. and what would i get in return? no regrets. the feeling that i pushed myself as hard as i could go...the peace of mind that only comes after knowing in your heart that you gave it your all.

(it gets better...)

after listening to my proposition, she says that she wants a representation of my soul. something tangible. (and i'm still running on the beach mind you). i've got it. i'll give her the corona beer cap that i have saved from one of my very first tournaments last summer. it was the tournament that i realized i wanted to be a professional volleyball player. at least, i wanted to try. i'll give her that as a representation of my soul.

see how powerful a workout can be? my point is this: i could be daydreaming about anything. sitting on clouds with nutella in one hand and a loaf of bread in the other...finding a wad of cash hidden beneath a clump of bushes...strutting around in my sleek jcrew get-up in my swanky corporate workplace...yet my number one recurring daydream--above all others--is me playing in big-time beach volleyball tournaments in front of my family and friends. on some level, doesn't this mean that i am doing the right thing?