Life is all about what you want and what you really want...

One year ago, I set foot on the range for the first time, and my reaction was "wow"
One year later, today, the feeling is still the same.
It is a different thing that drives my love for ARC now though, and that is what makes all the difference.
I love the moments we climb out of our shells of sweat, blood and tears, and shake each other in congratulation with our smelly hands.
I love the times we went for SMT and did silly things at the beach,
I love the times we trained hard at SAFRA for the National shoot,
I love winning bridge games and giving Debby and/or esmond the AR high-five,
I love the way the seniors and juniors in AR can talk so freely,
I love the "Yay, my average's improved" moments,
I love wearing the AR jacket with the words "VICTORIA AIR RIFLE" printed out big and clear on its back, then going around and bemoaning the fact that the words can be read down the length of the T block corridor, but wearing it so proudly down the corridors anyway.
I remember the O.o moments in the "down-under" where we'd pile pellets, do footwork with the deflated ball, "smell-out" the "better" gloves and that afternoon we monkeys tried out the "power" of a pellet shot (8 target sheets thick)

In all these many ways, I love Air Rifle,
that was good but that is the worry.
I don't want to go to Air Rifle because of the people, because of the place but because of the sport.
For all the hours I shoot, I begin to realise I have long lost the sense of purpose in training.

Where do I want to go?
I do not plan, nor aim to become a National shooter,
I do not see myself shooting for the next 2-3 years.
I don't want to stand there for all those hours not knowing why I do the routine, why I continue to load and shoot, load and shoot, without knowing why.
Contemplation was not an overnight thing,
thoughts like plants, are not transplanted but grow with time.

A decision has to be made.
I grow sad when I think about it.