I am the definition of an indoor kid.
As a child I played sports only until my parents lost the ability to force me to do things.
Unsurprisingly this was very very young.
I was routinely deemed “uncoachable”.
It probably don’t help that I have no desire to win.
This year I have read over 20,000 pages of fiction that’s not including my research.
I read the way other people go for runs, lift weights, or swim.
I go to the beach, when I remember the sun is good for my brain, with a book.
I go everywhere, with a book.
For 2 years, I climbed at an indoor gym.
It was repeated lessons in doing hard things and in figuring out my body.
I failed a lot, I got better a lot, I climbed 15-20 foot walls without ropes.
I fell and I didn’t fall.
I could do three pull ups. (I had visible muscles?)
Then grad school and work and reading, then quarantine.
Now I write, every day like I used to climb.
The muscles I use are different. The old ones are soft.
New ones are sharp.
If anyone figures out how to have both, will you let me know?
a brand new line. 