Poquito…

That’s Poquito climbing 8% Sherborne Hill. He climbed it 3 times this past Saturday. Climbed Retreat hill once. Did Daventry hill five times, four of which were sprints. We climbed Carriage hill once. We climbed the private drive off Taggart once (I love this one). We climbed three more off Taggart and cruised home. Back in December, they replaced his shoulder. November his knee. October his other knee. He’s been rehabbing daily since. Oftentimes it’s twice or three times. It hurts like hell but he doesn’t complain. He has things to do, you know. He’s 65 and far from done.

That’s him in the red jacket. His real name is Mike. Be like him, friends. Be like Mike. I call him Littlest Poquito because he’s one of my few and I love him. I always rename those I love. Don’t ask me why, it’s just another weird part of the puzzle pieces that make me, well, me. He and I have been through lots of stuff together. Work. Life. Good. Not so good. Dug out of holes together. Gotten into a few too. He chased me down a mountain when my brakes went out on Mount Cenis – risked life and limb. It’s who he is. He embodies “the obstacle is the way.” He’s worth emulating and admiring. Fact.

Who are your few? What makes them special, at least to you? When was the last time you told any of them how much they mean to you? You know, you ain’t gonna be here forever, friend, and it never hurts a heart to give and receive love – your love. Don’t just speak it, show it. Don’t just show it, say it! Thanks for a great morning, Pj, Brother Mick, Slips, and LP. It was freakin’ magic. Yeah, baby!

Live hard. Love harder…