The lone swimmer

Flowers open up to the sun, and close to the night air. A different set of things happen in daylight, in the warmth, than at night-time, with its chill.

I've decided to embark on a quest. Since this is such a classic decision for a man of my age, I feel responsible for setting the context.

Many would say that the story of Tristan and Isolde is one of the mythical underpinnings of our Western ideal of romantic love, a quintessential romance emerging from the Middle Ages and the Renaissance.

We can draw direct lines up to our present time about the roles, expectations, and experiences of real men and women alive here and now, doing our best to live out our destinies while challenging fate in order to make our own mark on our time.



So much of what we think and feel has been thought and felt before, as captured by writers and poets long forgotten to history. The aforementioned love story, for example, is credited to various re-tellers, but nobody knows for certain when or where or from whom it may have originated.

Its power, then, lies in our sense that it is an essential part of our collective past...an oral history of our ancestors' interpretation of the experience of new romances far in our collective distant past.

All we can do now is read the story and feel the chills run up our backs.

For a man, what remains in our time is this ageless need to slay the dragon -- whatever dragon that threatens those he loves. In the name of this urge, young men go off to war, determined to protect their homelands, their families.

Other young people strap suicide bombs to their bodies and venture forth, sacrificing their very existence in the name of a cause.

I am four decades too old to share such fantasies. My position in life, as a man, is to fight and slay my own dragons, internal enemies, so I might remain here for years to come, helping all of those I love.

The battle will be as difficult as any external quest. In our lifeline, a mirror exists -- what challenges us externally in youth returns as an internal struggle in our older years. The oppositional aspect may be stunning; the pain, however, is remarkable in that it is acute and identical.

I can say no more now, here, about my quest, though those closest to me will be able to fill in the blanks. I've prepared myself for battle, and, as always, the numbers will tell my story.

p.s. Thursday 50%, Friday 100%, tonight 50%. The quest has begun. The goal is 100%, night after night, and I will publish here, as a form of accountability. As always, I will be honest. It was so much easier last time, with my sweet ally by my side. Now, I go forward alone, but determined to succeed.

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