My Favorite Weapon

In the past six weeks, I've traveled almost all the way around the world. 

I've spent almost all that time in hundred degree-plus heat.

I've eaten plane food, street food, fast food, and meals prepared within an orphanage's budget. 

I've jet-lagged my way through more time zones than I can count.

And I somehow managed to drive over 2000 miles in 72 hours. 

And so far - knock on wood - I've been healthy, hale, and feeling great. Not a single digestive upset, ill-timed nap, dehydration, or bad case of the sleepiers has plagued me. I've managed to power through, bounce back, and roll with the changes that such relentless travel requires. 

I'll be honest. I could never have pulled this off on my own power alone. 

I owe this remarkably successful season of travel to the miracle of Coca Cola. 

Though I almost never drink Coke at home, I swear by this stuff when I'm traveling. 

A chilled can poured over ice, taken twice daily, sets me straight and chases the demons away. When it comes to surviving and thriving the demands of extreme travel, Coke is my favorite weapon.