GET YOUR FEET WET

I made a decision quite a while back. It's not really a vow; but almost. When life finds me near the ocean I make an effort to get my feet wet. This pseudo-self-pact has put me ankles deep in the midnight moonlight in Charleston; body-surfing (completely unprepared) in a shrivellingly chilly Pacific; knee deep in the Great White's home turf Indian Ocean off South Africa's Eastern Cape; and the requisite frolics in the Gulf - which really don't count because most were designed beach excursions. (Not to mention an early spring run in, and quickly out of, Lake Michigan - not an ocean, so it only kind of counts. Oh yeah, and an ill-advised winter swim in Old Mill Creek - but that was college, and something we really don't talk about.)

My point is, I have to be reminded from time to time to get my feet wet. Literally doing so drives the point home. LIVE! GET YOUR FEET WET!

I don't necessarily like sand getting into places averse to sand (and abrasion). It is easier most times to simply enjoy the view. It is more comfortable. But when I get my feet wet, it reminds me life is not about seeking the greatest comfort. Life is about passion. Life is about LIVING!

Can't hide selfies from mirrored lenses

So today's cardio was a power-walk on Cocoa Beach in the rain. The guy next to me on the flight home is probably less excited about my wet-dog, sweaty beach smell. But hey, I got my feet wet!

Get your feet wet!

For now...
D

And a little work on the pier