Ow, that feels good...
Why is it that on marathon days when I'm run ragged, pushed to my limits and beat to a pulp, I end up feeling happier than ever. I spent eight and a half hours yesterday hauling pinestraw, loading it in a truck, driving somewhere, dealing with grumpy people in pajamas on a Saturday morning, unloading however many bales they wanted and then doing it all over again. At the end of the day, I had loaded and unloaded about five and a half truckloads, about 170 bales of pinestraw a truckload, about two to three pounds a bale, and I was too tired to bother calculating how much I'd done. My people think I'm crazy when I try and do "too much" *cough*sixAPs*cough*, but it seems to me, that it's when I push myself that much that I can do so much more and I'm happy doing it.