Swimming clobbers my neck. Feels like one of my vertebrae gets nudged off kilter. And the muscles in the surrounding area stage an organized revolt.Not so much painful as uncomfortable. Like knuckle you WANT to pop, but can't, even though you've tried for hours. Fortunately, I stumbled across a massage therapist with some spare time. And a heated bamboo stick. Real bamboo. Really heated. And this girl beat my neck and shoulders with it like a carnival pony. Which I desperately needed. Okay, it was more like a rolling pin. But eventually the naughty vertebrae popped back into place. And I'm worlds away from where I was only hours ago.
Renewed, I hit the gym. Wanted to try the cleats from my street bike on one of the stationary bikes at the gym. Let us remember that I'm a keyboard jocket. Not an athlete. And not Lance Armstrong. So I wasn't aware that there different types of cleats. The ones on the bottoms of my shoes, which click into the pedals on my street bike, didn't work at the gym. All that hobbling around the room was for naughty. But I still had my normal shoes handy. And still had an amazing ride.
Brief confession. I was slightly offended every time somebody mentioned the "Miracle Of The Chilean Miners," today. Calling it a miracle is to spit in the face of the hundreds (thousands?) of rescuers and engineers who spent almost 70 straight days doing everything humanly possible to get those miners out of the ground. Instead of praising a divine spiritual creator, I think we should praise the human spirit that made it possible for those men to live and rejoin their friends, families, and loved ones. Chile should be proud of its efforts. To call it a miracle only diminishes it. Men and women made this possible. Those men and women deserve praises and the miners' thanks.
A billion people watched the rewards of their labors. For one day, we were all in agreement that something "good" happened by our own hands. We saw what we can do when we band together for a common cause.
If only we could agree more often...
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