It's alright.

I have been trying to write a follow-up post to last week's for a few days now. Nothing I wrote ever really seemed appropriate. I don't do pity parties and I will not hold one. Everything I wrote came out that way.

I also don't like to talk. The words never come together the way I want them to. I write instead, so trying to talk to me will usually only cause walls to go up. Remember?

Paint over the holes and make the exterior look tougher...

Therapeutic.

I'm glad I held off.

It's nice when things open up a bit and the pressure seems to ease, even if there is always the hovering feeling of impending doom and the crash that comes when things start to feel too positive.

Never let anyone underestimate the power of surrounding yourself with good, like-minded people. For all the bad in the world there are always friends who will go for beers, laugh until your stomach hurts, give you hope, talk it out, vent, give advice, take advice, sweat it out on the ice, or just generally make you feel like, for even just that moment, you're doing alright.

This week I have done a lot of thinking and self reflection, even if the self reflection was often shrouded in the wet blanket the brain sometimes likes to throw on when it tries to convince you that you are worth far less than you would like to believe. Shut up, brain.

Good people, good conversations, good times, getting back on the ice and a good focus on training have all been a part of the equation of things looking up.

The world is still going to hell, McGregor lost and the Pens signed Jay McClement to a PTO and all of that sucks - but I digress.

As I drove home one day I found myself thinking:

We don't really have control of much. Sometimes we think we do - that everything that happens is somehow a product of our actions.

But, that's not right. Sometimes things happen no matter how hard you try to think you are consciously shaping the outcome, and maybe you just need to ride it out, accepting whichever way things go.

Wait and see.

As a now-retired coworker of mine would say, "Carry on as if you was normal!"

You can only try to make the decisions that will better your own lot and hope everything else follows suit. There's no rush.

C'est la vie.

After the Paradise Triathlon this Sunday, a friend of mine pulled in my driveway for a chat. We were catching up and, after saying how I never understand why the more stressed I am the faster I get and the better I race, he shrugged and gave me a piece of advice I have adopted as my new motto:

"Screw feelings, Dwan. Stats are forever."

Touche.