I almost walked a marathon today, but stopped myself as an exercise in avash. Instead I find myself in Ballsh, having had dinner with Teo and Fatbar, followed by drinks with Emeliano, and falling asleep on a too-hot rooftop that is swarming with ants. I didn’t doubt my choice at dinner, or while drinking, but as I lie on this rooftop that is still baking hot at 2am, I catch myself thinking, “you could have knocked off that marathon, pal”.

Sometimes avash (slow) is harder than shpejt (fast).