Muscles.

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?

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