What a day! Today we went 45 minutes west, and we're now less than 15 from breaking 125! Soon we celebrate this small victory! Unfortunately we likely have one more week of headwinds, but the seas have been calm enough that we can grind through while chatting about childhood memories, our grandparents and what kind of people we hope to be. I drift into memories of my grandmother and the times we shared, ironically enough, many memorable moments with her involve baking deserts and eating ice cream :). All of you who knew or met her know we have a love for enjoying these treats in common. Besides that, I think about how much I hope to be like her, and how much of her I can pass on to others. We woke up fresh this morning with a night of decent sleep. I can't believe that I can sleep at all in this cabin given that 1) Sami is crammed in next to me and snores 2) the boat is ridiculously noisy, with waves slamming into the side every 15 or 20 seconds, and3) we are tipping this way and that way, pretty seriously, all night long. Any ways, we had fun this morning cheering on the Mai Tai waves and demanding "bring me to Hawaii!!!". As the day progresses and the fatigue sets in, we are not so jubilant. Towards the end of a rowing session or the end of the day, every minute is sheer torture. I squirm on my seat with discomfort and wiggle my toes to make my legs stop cramping. When it's break time I lean back onto arms that are shaky and feel like they might collapse under my weight. I look forward to see Sami leaning this way and that on his double-decker cushion, and I know he's suffering as much as me. The seas also seem to tant us as the day progresses. More often than not, 3pm sees growing waves and by 5 or 6 they are Taylan d breaking over us. We yell back, "You can't stop us, you big dummy! We are going to Hawaii!" Nights bring so much relief, both mentally and physically. Waking up in the cabin we always celebrate the 'free miles' we've drifted over night. Last night was a big one, 15 minutes west! While we slept!! How lucky are we? During the night I wake up from time to time from different maladies, making their presence known. Billy, my big blister on the knuckle of my toe, is now infected and puffy. Anytime something touches him I wake up. My hips too are telling me I'm too old for this, I can't straighten them out any more and we have at least a month left. My hands are knobby and stiff I'm the morning, and the skin is coming off from between my fingers. Sami has less pain now, but he'll catch up soon. Despite these aches and pains, I feel incredibly lucky to be out here and have support from so many. The repetition of the rowing is meditative and I think less about the outside world with each stroke I take, but when it gets to be too much, I find myself looking to reading your comments. PS My fried Dollar has been my undercover agent at home and I'm grateful for her favors and humor. The other letters of encouragement stay with me through the day. How could we not persevere with all of you behind us? Thank you for that.