×Woman Rock Climbing

A woman freehand rock climbs a cliff

It was a gully washer. The blasting rain conveyed the same sensation as a bucket of water being thrown in my face more or less constantly. My sailing buddy, Todd, squinted to see over the deck of his sailboat as we bashed into the stiff chop thrown up by the blustery wind. There wasn't much to see. Visibility had largely become invisibility.

Still, within the tempest, we smiled knowingly at each other. This was just what we needed. An ordeal. By the time we pulled up to the dock, we looked like wet dish rags but felt like a million bucks apiece.

Sometimes feeling wonderful requires first feeling awful. Illogical as this may sound, joy and pleasure are not always the product of a steady succession of good times (sometimes boredom

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