the struggle is what makes it worth it
Every year, I spend the week of my birthday working through all of my favorite things, little traditions. I like to go ride my bike all day (bikes are MY FAVORITE) in the sunshine, so I do, and not just because I've signed up for yet another late-season-keeping-me-from-racing-cross ironman. I like to do a batshit-crazy birthday swim of some sort, especially since I convinced Michelle to be the boss of my sassy britches, so I do. I like to drink a reasonable amount of tequila and eat an unreasonable amount frosting, so I do. I don't work on my birthday - not because I don't like to work, but because I simply don't believe in doing anything called "work" for this one day a year. I want to spend my birthday brimming over with laughter with the people in my life that I adore, so I generally drag them all out for margaritas or over to my house to force-feed them burned meat and fancy ice cream. I make it a point to get my yearly haircut, to take a real sho...