Far From Home

I had a dream the other night when I was somewhere between sleeping and waking. I could see a speck far in the distance and I wondered what that was, way over there. The answer came immediately, as it often does in dreams. That far away place was my Comfort Zone. A place I left quite a while ago with some reluctance and little real knowledge of where I was heading. Every time I get on my bike, trembling or not; every time I try something new - a Masters Class, a bootcamp yesterday (super big fun! and I'm incredibly sore), a race, a team meeting; every time I run just a little bit farther or a little bit faster, I leave that place a little bit farther behind. And you know what, its not that uncomfortable out here, far far away from my old Comfort Zone. Its actually pretty fun. Another thing - a lot of what resides way back there in the Comfort Zone is pretty uncomfortable. Like those mean old Bitches who convince me that I can't do the things I dream of doing. Sure they try to follow me out here, but they can't hang for long. They have to retreat back to their homes, away from my fire, away from Bravery. A different body hung out there too. It wasn't a bad body. Or even that out of shape - I ran and stayed active and that was fine. But this body is different. Every day its a little more changed, a little harder, a little stronger, a little more ready to get up out of the chair and stir it up. Funny thing happened today. I had to go to the courthouse to file some pleadings and I kept setting the metal detector off. I took off everything metal and it still kept going off. The dude had to wave his little wand around. Turned out it was my butt that was setting the thing off. I'm not kidding. He asked if I had something in my pocket. "Nope," I said "I guess its just my buns of steel;)" I can dream.

So, yeah. Its kind of nice out here. I'm sure eventually this will become my Comfort Zone. Then I'll have to pick up and move again. Because the real truth is, eventually, your Comfort Zone becomes your Prison.