Sunday, December 21, 2008

2 days 10 hours

So, I have two days and ten hours left until I decide to run or quit. I knew I had to keep training because I wanted to run my 25th Grandma’s. But I’ve been questioning myself: why should I? Who cares? Does it really matter? And is 24 hours enough? Who cares if I don’t? Only me?


Training for the marathon can give you increased energy, improved health, a sense of accomplishment, increased discipline, quality time outdoors, a chance to show off to the opposite sex that you can do it, and great-looking legs. But if I had been doing this for 24 years in a row, and training lost its charm over a decade ago, why would I continue?


In this time of self-exploration, I’m still wondering why. As I was writing this, the TV was on. It was strange that I was watching “Click” with Adam Sandler… a movie about fast-forwarding through life. I watched this and thought about the 24 years in a row that I’ve finished Grandma’s marathon. Those 24 years feel like a blur… more than half my life is a blur. I recall the first year and a few other moments in between, but just like the movie “Click,” I just cruised through the years, and I can’t put many facts about those years into my mind, no matter how hard I try. It isn’t reassuring.


That made me think about this past year even harder. I’ve been extremely busy at work, but I’m thankful to have an excellent job in this economy. I’ve been so busy officiating over 30 weekends of tennis events in 2008 and trying to keep everything in check that I forgot to keep myself in check. I’ve been so busy chasing a dream that I forgot what the dream was. The year flew by, and I’m still trying to figure out where it went and what I did. I’d love to tell you a lot about it, but to me, that sounds scary. It makes me wonder if being homeless is easier and less taxing. Then I recall stepping outside this morning, and OH MY GOD, IT WAS COLD. So I’m happy I have a warm place to sleep. Many people have limited luxury, but do I have a balance? That’s the question.


In contemplating my life, I recognize its inherent value as a precious gift. Refusing to embrace and pursue it, to seize the dream entirely, constitutes a form of “sin” that may not be punishable by eternal damnation, but rather a more insidious deprivation of the most crucial aspects of life.


Although I cannot recall the exact year, I vividly remember my high school years when I learned of King Edward VII of England’s passionate love for Wallis Simpson. To fulfill his dream and marry her, he made the unthinkable decision to abdicate from the throne, which he did with remarkable swiftness. By breaking the established norms, he reversed the conventional order, allowing his dreams to take flight and bestowing upon him the recognition and admiration of his courage and passion.


Throughout my life, I have engaged in various activities, including walking, running, and conversing with numerous individuals, all of whom share their aspirations and dreams. I interact with children, hear their dreams, and engage in discussions with colleagues, who also share their dreams. I hold a deep appreciation for dreamers, for the electrifying energy they possess. However, it is often the case that their dreams remain stagnant, akin to the static electricity that stings without warning. For instance, they may express their desire for a fulfilling career, but then encounter obstacles or limitations. In my own case, my running embodies this aspiration, but I digress from that topic.


Subsequently, other dreams demand verification of their reality. These dreams can be both somber and joyful. Dreams can be beneficial if they do not distort reality. As the adage goes, one of the keys to success in any significant endeavor is to visualize success. However, I have observed individuals with such vivid visualizations that they stray from the intended path, resorting to cheating or engaging in other indiscretions. (Tom Petters?)


Therefore, can dreams also have opposing effects on some individuals? These are dreams that induce a sense of reality, yet they are not. These dreams can evoke fear.


A few weeks ago, I had a dream that my friend’s co-worker, who was expecting a baby, tragically passed away in the dream. The baby did not survive. I felt immense remorse. A week after the dream, my friend informed me that her friend was due to give birth on Monday. I looked at her, perplexed, and inquired if she was certain, as the baby had perished in the dream. I realized then that it was a dream and not reality. However, when I received the news a few days later, I discovered that the baby had indeed not survived, and I felt a profound sense of inadequacy.


What does this have to do with my decision to run in 2009? I am uncertain, but running is akin to many aspects of my hectic and intricate life. I have been overwhelmed, and life seems to transpire without much contemplation.


Watching the movie “Click” deeply moved me. As he lay dying on the pavement, at the culmination of his life, I extinguished the television and shed tears. Indeed, men are capable of shedding tears. I was not deriving the enjoyment I had anticipated from all that I engaged in. I am now fast-forwarding. Running had become a monotonous chore; dating and smiling had also become chores.


I need to evaluate what makes me happy. I must stop, look, and listen to the beauty around me. Just as deciding to try 100 miles requires concluding the best opportunities to make life enjoyable, I must do the same for my life. There will be obstacles that change my plans, but I’ll find the best way to accomplish them. It could be sitting and looking at the stars, but I want to run right now.


Some of you may have read about my love of a blog by two 82-year-old ladies (http://margaretandhelen.wordpress.com/). Part of her recent post was amusing, so I wanted to share it.


"I would have written sooner, but I couldn’t stop laughing long enough to type more than a sentence or two. Oh, my goodness, but did any of you see the incident with the Iraqi journalist, Muntathar al Zaidi, throwing his shoes at Georgie Boy? Millions of us have wanted to do that very same thing. It’s too bad Zaidi didn’t hit his intended target because he just might have knocked some sense into that thick Bush skull. Not to mention the lucrative Nike contract that surely would have followed.”


She is a hoot! 82 and a mind as witty as a twenty-year-old. I needed a laugh!


Carry on my friend, carry on!

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