Dreaming Big Isn’t Glamorous
I blew a snot rocket, carefully positioning my head with the wind and timing the blow with the rhythm of my footsteps. It was a miserable late winter day, with strong winds and little ice pellets that couldn’t decide if they wanted to be rain or snow. They bounced off the track as they fell from the sky. I dodged little patches of ice on the track, taking note of their location as I looped, then looped again. I was alone with my thoughts and a series of pyramid repeats – ranging from 200 to 1200 yards. Of course, I was …