Swimming upstream. You don't need to watch Animal Planet or Wild Wild Kingdom or National Geographic to know what that means. We all do it. Sometimes we get stuck in that place. Swimming upstream.
Sometimes the river dries up as you go father upstream. Dries to a tiny trickle. Everyone fighting to stay cool in the tiny rivulets that remain.
As you pass over gravel beds warming in the thin rushing water, you can almost see the ones beside you, the ones who couldn't make it farther upstream. Their bellies up and bloated in the autumn sun. A few more miles, you tell yourself... a few more miles. And head down, you trudge ever upward and onward. Driven.
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