The Orange Room

I was woken up by the sunrise creeping through my window shades, it made my room orange, it was awesome.  The orange light that filled my room made everything look different.  Everything looked like it was in a toy story movie,  I felt like I was in a different world.  I looked over at my orange faced Fiance that was still sound asleep, she even looked computer animated. I didn't want to wake her so I got out of bed slowly and made my way to the kitchen to make some coffee.  There is something about being the only one up and awake in your house very early in the morning that is so peace full.  As if the whole world is asleep and your the only one awake.  Its like the house is alive and looking at you like "why are you up this early"?   The house was completely dark still, and then I noticed that the hall way that led to my room was completely orange.  The orange light was creeping down the hall way heading right for me.  It was slowly taking over the dark house.  I stood there in my big blue robe and my coffee in my hand just staring at the orange light moving towards me, at this point I didn't know if I was awake or dreaming.  The orange slowly hit my feet and then crept up my whole body in tell it I was a glowing orange man. 
     The cold morning air hit me right in the face the second I walked outside.  I stretched out my arms and told myself I was going to lift big weights today.  The orange light was a sign of strength, a sign that I was going to make this Olympic team in 2012.  It was a sign that I was going to keep getting stronger, way stronger.  I love this sport, this sport is home to me, it has been good to me on all levels,  I just want to take more out of it,  I want to win more,  I want to keep making more and more money,  I want to get more kids in this sport,  I love the USA. Its crazy to think where I am at today, wow, looking back a few years ago I was a lost kid in college in and out of trouble.  Only if my English teacher new that I was a paid writer, and that I had my own blog,  lol,   she would fall over.  I failed her class three times and then finally passed.  She always loved my writing, it was just the reading and grammar that killed me.  I will never forget what she told me, at the very end of my last class that I ended up passing. Ms Van Aalst said "forget 90%  of what I taught you and write the way you want to write."   That was the best advise any teacher has ever given me.   All my other teachers told me my writing was "not properly formatted, you write like you talk Jon and that's not correct."   I  always looked back at what Ms Van Aalst told me and just kept doing my thing.   Screw them, screw the know it all's, I hate only doing things one way because someone a long time ago said so, because that's just the way it is Jon.  fuck that, do things your way, do it how you want to do it.  Life is a game, life is in your hands, not theirs.  Train how you want to train, write how you want to write, coach how you want to coach, fuck them.   Fuck all them that tell you different.