It Could Be A Helluva Lot Worse | Lift Heavy Run Long

January 26, 2016

“We become happier, much happier, when we realize life is an opportunity rather than an obligation.”
Mary Augustine

It is a good morning. I am sure of it. Any morning that I get out of a sheeted bed, in a heated home, under my own strength is a good one. A have a friend who is 72 years old, and he has lived through some real sh*t. One day I was giving him a long, drawn out story about how life was treating me unfairly and bla-blah-blur-bla-pity me-pity me. My friend just gave me a grin and exclaimed, “Wilson, if you think you are having a bad day now, try missing one of them.”(Yep, thats Billy D. if anyone was keeping up) I chuckled out loud, because this old dude is full of wisdom and perspective that can make anyone belly laugh. So, I feel that any day that I wake up 6′ above ground and have some work to do, then I have been dealt a pretty good hand.

I chose to sleep in and skip CrossFit this morning because I got to bed late, which by late I mean bout 9:45pm. At the end of the evening I could feel myself getting pouty, tired, and anxious. I use finess to give me energy, and sometimes I will keep pushing and pushing myself before I realize that I am not energized….I’m miserable. I did this last year while training for Sylamore 50k. I got so caught up in the result, that I forgot to enjoy the journey. I need to find balance. The reason I was out so “late” is that Amanda and I have enrolled in a 12 week ASL course to learn sign language. I can’t remember exaclty what made us decide to enroll, but we did. I have never met anyone who is so full of life as Amanda. There is absolutely nothing that she won’t do if there is the opportunity to pack a little more “life” into the equation. There is nothing that I won’t SAY i’m gonna do, but she will actually follow through, and I will follow her anywhere. She is whole hearted believer in trying, failing, trying again. If she sets her mind to something, she will knock at it’s door until someone answers or the hinges break off the frame. Anyway, I don’t have a concise reason as to my desire to learn sign language, but I like to think that it would be an opportunity to listen and connect with another individual who suffers from alcoholism or drug addiction. God only knows that my life would not be what it is today if people had not spent countless hours “listening” to what I had to say. I had SO MUCH SH*t in my head and heart, that I can’t imagine not having an outlet for which to get it all out. In typical fashion, here I am conjuring up visions of grandeur in regards to helping someone, and I don’t even know the alphabet. I had learned the alphabet well enough to MAYBE make it through one time, while stopping MAYBE once, or twice. Amanda was about the same….or so I thought. On the way to the class, she starts spelling out words to the music with her hand, and I about had a heart attack. She looked like an international mediator who was in charge of negotating a treaty between the Vice Lords and Gangster Disciplines all through signs. I was ill prepared and instantly afraid of the upcoming class. I was petrified. Keep in mind, Amanda has her doctorate…it took me twelve years to get my undergrad. My idea of accelerated classes involved amphetimines in the parking lot. This was well out of my comfort zone. It did not help when the teacher of the class informed us, with her hands, that there would be no speaking of any sort during class times…all signs. I whispered to Amanda that someone needed to quickly teach me how to sign, “oh fu*k”, cause that is what was going through my head for the next 120 minutes. All seriousness, it was really great and I welcome the challenge. I’m a little slower than many in the class, but I tend to start slow…and gradually taper off. Just kidding. I’ll be fine. All good things.

Sooooo, about my day today, THIS is what I do:

 

Clearly I’m a pretty big deal. Part of my worldly duties is that I sweep parking lots. Well, I actually blow parking lots while my buddy drives the vaccuum truck. It’s kinda like being doctor, except it requires no education, very little knowledge, and any idiot can do it. This being said, I fu*king love it. I love the openess of the huge warehouse parking lots. I love the excercise, as I will travel 12-15 miles a day with a 10lb blower on my back. And, I love the time to myself and my thoughts. I will tell you another reason that I enjoy it, as I have shared before. One my grandfathers was studying to be an attorney before he was attacked by friendly fire in WWII. After having a metal plate placed in his head, and most of his vision lost, he was unable to practice law. He spent the rest of his career with a respectful job on the sales floor at Goldmith’s. I never once heard him bitch or complain about what could have been. He didn’t live like he had been fu*ked over, he lived like he was lucky to be alive, and he did his work with pride and integrity. My other grandfather was a pipe welder. He was the son of an alcoholic and lived his youth travelling from place to place as his dad found work on the railroad. He learned a trade and learned it well. He provided for his family, and he did it with dignity. So, with that being said, those are two distinguished men who would welcome me, or any guy like me, at their dinner table. They are people that did not place importance on WHAT you did, as much as THAT you did, something. You do a job, and you do it the best that you can, and anyone with an opinion can suck it (pretty sure neither of my grandparents said “suck it”…not a direct quote). If I can die having just had the opportunity to provide for my family, to any degree at all, then I consider myself lucky.

Y’all have a good day, don’t take it all too seriously, and by all means if someone tells you it cannot be done…full throttle, onward and upward.

Peace, Love, and all things Beef related,

Beefcake