My grandparents lived through The Great Depression. One of my grandparents was the child of an alcoholic who worked on the railroad. He attended 12 different schools in eight years. His way of making friends was to fight the school bully and hope that he won. My other grandfather was separated from his siblings because his parents were quarantined from tuberculosis. Both of my grandparents fought in WWII and one of them lost his vision and ability to drive a car and practice law.
As for me… well….
I keep having problems with my double unders at the gym.
Somedays I have very little problem stringing together a few and other days I get one or two before I get tangled up and start whipping myself. It’s a real concern, something that can have a lasting effect on my legacy and ability to be a good father to my children and husband to my wife, I know.
My life is so cush, my priorities so misaligned, my ego so jaded that I can take my inability to make a rope pass under my feet two times in one jump and somehow allow that to make me a failure of a person. I think that part of human nature is to create hardships, injustices, and problems and keep them in rotation like a Pez dispenser. If there is not a loved one who is ill or a vehicle that is wrecked, we will find a stomach that is too big, a blemish that is too glaring, or a mile time that is too slow.
It’s almost as if I have a need for an insecurity or disappointing attribute to fall back on. If my grandparents were alive today and I told them about my frustration in jumping over a rope two times in the air, I wonder if they could even wrap their head around that. If I had both of my granddad’s in the same room, I wonder if they would be capable of processing my emotional struggle if I were to tell them of the shame that comes with finishing in the back of a back, while running through the woods during a race in which I paid $100 to run. I wonder if I sat down with two veterans who lived through the depression and told them of my frustration regarding my Fran time or inability to do a muscle-up if they would even be able to understand the point I was trying to convey.
It’s important for me to step back and look at my problems on a full scale. It’s a good idea for me to drop off my thoughts on paper or share them with a friend at least long enough for me to see them for what they are. Sally Struthers doesn’t raise money for those without double-unders, Sarah McLachlan doesn’t sing songs about those who finish last in trail races, and Wilford Brimley doesn’t do telethons for those who can’t do muscle-ups.
Peace, Love, and all things Beef related,