Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Sunday Scribblings

This week's word was "celebrate"

The goal--my goal--is an intrinsically selfish form of self expression. It factors in nobody and cares little about the hopes and dreams of those around me. I spend hours of my life running to nowhere in particular, at the expense of spending free time with you out there, in the hopes of entering a few cherished (at least by me) “races” a year where I will move from point A to point B in a time many hours behind the “winner.” Throughout the months of training, pain and complaining, my “failure” is guaranteed. For I will never break a paper banner stretched excitedly across a finish line, nor will I grace the cover of a magazine or earn a single dollar for my effort. In fact, this obsession costs me, my family, and friends, thousands of actual dollars a year (it is impossible to factor in the value of the time they put into scratching my itch). Nonetheless, I am energized by this wasteful journey. I have not a clue where it will end, but I know, at least for now, it helps me face endless days wasted in front of a computer screen. This weekend, as they (at least she) have done so many times before, the family came together to cheer me on in my attempt to complete a run I was not prepared and/or physically healthy enough to complete. Despite this, they showered me with support and pushed me to finish my greatest challenge to date. Without their presence, I may not have toed the start line and finished in the bottom half of a beautiful run through the roads and hills of the western United States. While they were there to celebrate my “accomplishment” (or ability just to survive such a stupid and ill conceived endeavor), it is them who should be celebrated, for they did not knowingly sign up for this craziness when I entered each of their lives, but they have supported me nonetheless. To each of you who were their this weekend, supported me from afar, or just got stuck listening to my constant chatter about chaffing, blisters, shoes, spandex, lube, socks, technical t's, or the value of sodium intake, I love you all. I am eternally grateful to each of you for not only dealing with me, but also for helping me reach my goals by refusing to let me give up, no matter how hard I make my life seem. Even though I will never be greeted with a trophy. Finally, to my crew chief, how you have endured my ridiculousness for years, is beyond me, but know that you are a saint, and I owe you more than you will ever know.

3 comments:

NYC painter said...

I love you, Brian. That's all. Have sweet dreams.

floreta said...

good for you! i haven't run too many races, but i can relate to this a bit as a runner.

"The goal--my goal--is an intrinsically selfish form of self expression. It factors in nobody and cares little about the hopes and dreams of those around me."

this is how i feel about any of my goals, not just running.. i feel incredibly selfish sometimes but i just know that if it makes me happy then there's nothing wrong with that!

Rinkly Rimes said...

I have a favourite saying 'It is not sad to end life with broken dreams, but it is sad never to have dreamed.'