Man-Strength and other surprising things I like about my thirties

I had one Guiness and one Coke sloshing in my belly, a full day and some interesting company, ready to call it a night, I was boasting in a 40% ironic way that I could lick anybody in the house.  No sooner had I said the words and believed them then a young fella called me on it.

"You think you could out-arm wrestle me?" said he.

"Yep" says I.

"You want to put $20 on it?"

"Nope"

"Just for fun then?"

"Sure!"

Inside we went, shooing a pair of retired teachers I'd conversed with earlier from their table and submitting to the advice and etiquette discussions of a number of half-in-the sauce patrons.  We began.  He composed himself and wrestled as if he knew a thing or two about this sweet science, and I was immediately behind the eight ball. He tried thrice to pump me out but I managed to compose myself after each , and in short order he had exhausted himself to give me the well-earned win.  It was a gift of genetics as my gym log reads like a list of good reasons to get a face tattoo.  But goddammit, I stepped up to the plate and secured my wrung in the great ladder of merit.

 I wasn't thinking about that though, I was thinking about "The Old Man and the Sea".  I was thinking about how good it feels to be trying absolutely as hard as I can, that real exertion.  My success was only sweet sweet icing on the cake.  Maybe there's a lesson to be learned there.    

Anyway, I find myself in a pretty good place.