No mames. Tengo un dolor de cabeza de la chingada. As I write this, me estan saliendo un chorro de mocos tambien. Y con esta calor desgraciada, para acabarla. This week, for the first time in a while, I actually intentionally rested a few times. I'm down bad d-town boogie style. The good thing about this week is that I finally got a haircut after weeks of looking like the emblematic scruffy computer dork. The mid-fade with textured top hides the fact that I've been cooped up in my place rotting & listening to Perdono y Olvido by Pepe Aguilar for the billionth time (the mtv unplugged version). Could be the perfect summer nightime song for me.
Speaking of summer, next month I'll be heading out on a transatlantic flight to Norway! My first international solo trip! I've been trying to finalize my itinerary these last few weekends, and from the looks of it, I think Trolltunga will be the høydepunktet. The current question smoldering underneath this headache is, how will I get from Bergen to Odda? Err, sepa la madre! Pero me la voy a rifar! Can I pull a double-threshold day in honor of Ingebrigtsen over there? Let's see!
Sometimes I wonder why my intuition was attracted to Norway as a teen. Perhaps when I'm there, I'll find the answer. Traveling always induces wild, maddening revelations. And if I don't? all I know is that it'll be interesting to get out of a country largely concerned with getting from here to there as fast as possible.
Anywho, hoping to resume training on Monday with tomorrow just dedicating it to a strength day and time with my family for Mexico vs. England. Kinda weird how the themes of this post have been revolving around "coming back". The unconscious mind, eh?
Creo que ahora puedo continuar,
E. Tristan