One might expect, in light of the events that transpired a couple weeks ago, that I would be filled with regrets about letting myself get in such bad physical shape that it almost killed me.
The short answer is, I don't.
If you know me, then you know why I joined the Army and came to Europe 10 years ago. I got tired of living a mundane life, working a mundane job and was dying to experience life in all it's glory. I longed for adventure, for new experiences, for stories to tell my kids someday. And looking back over the past 10 years, that's exactly what I got in spades. Leaving for Europe back in 1998 was like starting my life over and I'm satisfied that I grabbed every little bit I could. Sure, there are places I still have yet to see and things I probably will never got to accomplish now but I've had a great run.
I've seen the best Europe has to offer. I've experienced the best life has to offer. When I think back over the life I've had since coming to Europe 10 years ago, I feel many things but I gotta say, regret is not one of them. When I think about what life was like before I joined the Army and came here, it makes me shudder to think of where I would be had I not made the great leap of faith and chucked it all for a new life.
Remember the book that I started writing last year? I had to scrap the project for various reasons but before doing so, I managed to get the first several chapters written, about how I came to make the decision to join the Army and come to Europe. I've been rereading it a lot lately and it's reminded me of how miserable I was in my former life. It's coming up on the 10th anniversary of the day I arrived in Europe so I guess it's fitting to reminisce.
Perhaps I'll post some of the story on here in small bits at a time so some of you can reminisce with me...