Was shooting yesterday. For the first time in a little over three weeks.

Got tired after just one end and now my back muscles are all achy, but it felt good.

There's a strange kind of high that comes from shooting; it's a sedate kind of high, as far as that may make sense to you.

When you step up to the shooting line, it's like you become hyper-aware and unaware of everything all at the same time. The feeling of the ground beneath your feet and the speed of the wind and the flags over the target boards flapping in the breeze; the sound of other people shooting, the sound of metal sliding-scraping on metal as arrows are drawn, and the sound of clickers and the twang of string as they release; and at the same time, the world narrows down to that of just you, your bow, and the target board.

Watch the target board as you lift your bow and take a breath--

See the tiny circle of yellow while you're barely aware that your brain is automatically running through a routine that is already familiar:

Arrow on the string, fingers grasping; palm resting on the handle of the riser, comforting weight--

Draw.

Back muscles clenching, joints locking in place, every little thing that you know is happening and every little thing that you can feel--

The sound of metal, slide-scraping through the clicker--

And it's quiet now because there's nothing else that matters.

Pull. Aim. Push. Extend.

And your brain knows it in that millisecond before you hear it:

Click.

Release: the string slips out, your hand snaps back, the arrow flies--

And in the split-second before it lands, you don't breathe--

The bow falling forward, stabilisers scribing an arc in charged air, don't move, don't breathe, till--

It hits.


I will never know this feeling anywhere else.


If it's true that Life isn't measured by the breaths you take, but the moments that take your breath away, then I count myself lucky that I am one of the few who knows where and when those moments happen.