My nightstand served as a holding tank for the turquoise kidney shaped throw-up trays I'd need over five years of chemo. It converted to a trashcan for all of the Kleenex used to wipe the vomit off my face. It displayed fish tanks, terrariums and cool lamps. It housed the first love letter I ever received. When I moved away from home, my nightstand naturally came with me.
After swimming I'll spend a few minutes in the hot-tub, then have a little schvitz. In the sauna the steam hisses and envelops me. My body feels well-worked as my mind and muscles relax. While I may not be the strongest, the fastest or the "most fit" person at the gym, at this point I just don't sweat it.