Time slips by and we don't even notice it. It trickles into our memories like drizzle at the beginning of a storm. How I wish I could collect the drops and save them for another day. Unfortunately, there isn't a bucket to hold the seconds, and instead we're left with only regrets or a sense of pride. Which do you want?

This is a question that I�ve asked myself throughout the competition season this year.  I could cut through time like I could cut through butter with a steak knife.  So soft and so permeable, I know I can bend it and mold it and make what I want out of it.  So, why do I choose to dedicate so much of my time to training when there is no guarantee in the fitness industry of material success?  Well, the answer is right there in that adjective:  material.  Why do we have to work for tangible qualities?  Can�t we be content to live with success that builds the mind, the heart, and the soul?  Up to this point, I haven�t been.  But then I took a moment and examined my performance this year, especially at the recent Junior Nationals, and I realized how far I�ve come in my life, and I know that this journey is due to the many helpful signs and pit stops I�ve made along the way, as well as the gas attendants, the natives of various cities, the police officers directing traffic, and the weather that has sometimes hindered and often aided my travels.  Obviously this is a metaphor for the friends, family members, other competitors, and fans who have filled the shoes of those characters we meet when we set out in our cars and travel to another city.

I am truly blessed.  I might cry or gripe about a particular standing in a show.  I might whine about the tuna and asparagus I must shove into my mouth on a daily basis.  I might throw a tantrum and hit the pillow with angst when the alarm buzzes incessantly before the sun yawns wide and opens it mouth.  I might even sit on the floor of my kitchen and ask why, why am I doing this when the bills pile up, the supplement supply runs low, and the to do list won�t disappear.  But I would never give it up.  I would never change a thing.  The growth of muscle that I�ve obtained amounts to a pile of beans when I examine the growth of comprehension I have gained in regards to myself, and life in general.  So as you read through the recent occurrences of this spring and summer and as you peruse the pictures in the galleries, I hope you gain a sense of fortitude and understanding.  Life truly is a bowl of cherries:  savor the sweetness and spit out the pits.