This isn't my photo. Gooch just came back from Roswell, NM with an unholy amount of photos (including a lot of us as kids with bad hair), so I've been looking through those tonight. I'm sure there'll be more as the week progresses. Click the windmill and get your voyeur on. (The set name you're looking for is "The Roswell Incident.")
I'm feeling good tonight. I knocked two things off my personal to-do list a few short hours ago: to go jogging in Central Park and to run in a race. How was my time? Not stellar - 3.5 miles in about 45 minutes (I'm knocking 9 minutes off my time because that's about how long it took me to get from where I was standing to the actual start line after the clock started - Hello, 15k people in Central Park).
But my time really isn't the point. The point is I did it. I have my little marathon T-shirt and number that was pinned to me for an hour, and allowing myself that initial opportunity to suck at something new buys me just enough time to try stuff on for size, to do stuff that maybe I'd never try if I was worried how I'd look doing it or whether or not I'd be any good at it. It's playtime, and if I suck and I'm still managing to have a good time, that's a pretty good indicator to me that I'm doing something right. There's always room for improvement later.
It's a big sky, a hell of a horizon and counting stars is nice but (as I hear they say out on the ranch) I've got shit to do.
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Leave it at the beep.