And so it begins....

That long spell of nothing between Mac races that makes me question my "station" in life... Its the post-mac depression that sinks in every August, filling me with "what does it all mean" and thoughts of taking a backpack and running away to some island (not Mackinac, something warmer!) and just living. A new life, a new start, a new scene, just new.... brighter, better, warmer, more meaningful... as if that was out there and I just haven't made the right turn yet.

Its a funny thing when you realize you need substance. You need your days to mean something and your daily efforts to effect someone in a positive way... and I only feel that about 8 days a year, and that's just not enough. Some people can put the same peg in the same hole 10 hours a day for 40 years, but I am not built that way. And not to belittle that peg in the hole, its a part of the bigger picture and that person is making something, but I find that I need to be closer to the forefront of the effect.... to connect with those effected.

Cause and Effect.... its a miraculous thing to watch a child start to notice the partnership... and I guess I need that out of my every day life. Maybe that's why I love sailing, and learning how the wind effects the boat... and the realization that sometimes you just can't control what direction you're going and how fast you will get there. And that's what the race proves to us every July... Its a nice slap in the face to mankind, those that think they have harnessed all that Mother Nature has to offer up... then suddenly Lake Michigan turns on you and shears your mast clean off your deck..... just to remind you who the boss really is. The arrogance of man.... but I digress, that's another rant for another day.

So now... as I'm working on a Saturday getting ready for a million of my closest friends to converge on the lakefront in Chicago and inhibit my every move home.... I'm reflective of the faces of all those sailors, and all the hours on the water... and all that gratitude for uttering the simple phrase of "welcome to the island, Sailor". The smile from ear to ear, and the pure joy of the rum drink after 80 hours on the water.... that's why I do what I do... for those faces, and those sailors, and that commitment to the water and the spirit and competition....

.....and the occasional rum drink on a tiny little island in Michigan. 364 days and counting.... is it July again yet?