Y'know, E? I get asked that question an awful lot, so I'll tell you what I always tell them:
There comes a point where you're out of gas, and even the fumes are a long distant memory. When that time comes, you start to run on "Bad Ass." And you start to laugh at your physical limitations. Plenty of time to sleep when they put me in a hole and begin the arduous task of forgetting me. I have a job to do, and there ain't no rest for the wicked.
Or:
Training, stubborness, and drugs.
---------- Post added at 02:40 PM ---------- Previous post was at 02:34 PM ----------
Also, I'd be fine with a fluid timeskip while things are going down on deck. Makes the transition a little less jarring, I think.