Only after Long Run Sunday can I sit in contentment with tired feet (in hiker man socks, I know) and a partially finished document in my lap. And I'm trying to get at what really makes a first draft so hard. Is it knowing that your work is heavily flawed, probably full of inconsistent reasoning, but took your best effort and requires letting go? Who really wants to do that...but life is full of first drafts.Recipes, parties, art, conversation, gardens, goals, schedules. None of them will ever be perfect. It likely will feel a little unfinished. But I think we grow stronger every time we scare ourselves a little and ship one out.