Seven…

Tomorrow begins a little past 6bells with core work. It will be hell. It will break us all. It’s designed to be the hardest thing we do all day. It will be. Freakin’ magic.

Next up a bit before 8bells is Rachel. She’s a BTL Builder and we’re chiseling her into her best. 9 bells is team practice with TSG, the last client I’ll ever take on myself. 11am is with Dantheman followed quickly at noon with Danthemans team from Lower. These folks keep going further than I thought they could. What the hell do I know…

The afternoon will have me headed for sports. Grappy and his team of grapplers will kick it off at 1:30 followed with rapidity by the women’s soccer team at 2:30. The day will wrap up with a tennis team and their leader, Baby Kass.

Seven practices. One day. Every one of them are my OPUS. Every one of them will get my best. Every one of them is freakin’ magic in the making. None of them are anywhere near where they will be after another seven years of making them do what they can. Seven years from now I’ll be on seventies doorstep. The Lord willing, nothing much will have changed. I’ll still be running practices like my life depends upon it. The band will be better. Clients too. Me?

Freakin’ magic in the making. You, friend, are not meant to labor in vain. You are meant to labor in love. Are you looking forward to tomorrow? Are you getting better or just getting busy and counting down the time? Are you a soul on fire or bummed and burned out? Are you contagious? Worth catching?

Live hard. Love harder…

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