I have lived my life in shadows. Never the best at anything. I never qualified (in my mind) for second or third best either. The fact of the matter is that I was never considered the smartest or strongest or swiftest and handsome for that matter. The events of my life sort of fit into the background. My experience would not be the subject of books or movies. Hell, I often wondered if I made any impact on the people I met beyond the initial "hello".
Compound this by thirty-five years. I skated by in school. I was not athletically inclined. More of a life spectator than life participant. Most of my stories were retold tales of other peoples' adventures. Sure, I spent four months in Beijing. I have an interesting story behind meeting my wife. There are other moments worth mentioning. But nothing that really made even me stand back and say "wow".
I often wondered if I even mattered. Outside my little circle of family I was curious (concerned) about my impact on the world. A former supervisor had a saying about our individual worth in the workplace. Put your hand in a bucket of water then pull it out. If the water does not fill the space your hand occupied then you are not replaceable. Otherwise we are all interchangeable. Not an entirely true statement but I get the point. And my pleas for assistance in this career confirmed my own diminished self-value. Ask for help enough and the response (or lack of) is telling.
"Do I matter to you once we part ways?"
So I longed to matter. I yearned to end the invisibility. I want to be noticed. Not for ego. But for value. I believe that all anyone wants is to know that we matter. On some level we affect people in positive ways and have a lasting impact. Whether it is art, music, literature, business or sports the impact one makes can be monumental or sublime. I don't need a ticker-tape parade down Main Street. A simple "thank you for being you" is usually enough.
Running has shredded my invisibility. My training motivates people to get active. (So I'm told) My racing inspires people to set goals. (So I'm told) My writing encourages people to share their own stories full of triumph and tragedy.
Sometimes I wonder about my place in all this. Maybe I am "too out there". The crazy thing is that every time I ponder receding to the shadows for a breather something amazing happens before I am able to retreat. A new connection is formed. An intriguing opportunity arises. An awesome recognition is bestowed upon me. These moments remind me that people see me in a way that I recently that foreign.
My wife jokes that I ego is growing to an uncontrollable proportion. An running friend commented that "the genie is out of the bottle". I think it is simple that I no longer shrink into the shadows. I try to stay humble. Speak with me in person and you will see it. I am still shy in social situations. Public boasting is still not my thing.
My new visibility has amazing consequences. Old friends are taking up running. Strangers are becoming new friends. Opportunities to test my limits and shatter my boundaries are coming up fast. No one truly knows how this all affects me, but I am impacted.
I don't long to "hear" myself talk. I don't need to have my ego stroked. I don't care to amass a cult-like following. I do hope to hear that someone improved an aspect of their life due to my example. Inspiration often arrived out of the blue. Encouragement may come from unexpected places. The best statement I could hope to hear would be "I did this because you did it too."
I am tired of hiding. Tired of being unnoticed. Tired of being inconsequential. I am not tired of running though. I have so many miles to go and so many stories to live.
Or something like that... Running has brought amazing, caring, wonderful individuals into my life. And no one has asked anything of me other than to believe in them. To be honest and trusting and hopeful. To be a friend. I run to live.
I have a few stories to tell. Some are public. Some are private. What I do know is that telling my story has helped heal the people involved. My story has comforted people, knowing they are not alone in their suffering or struggle.
Compound this by thirty-five years. I skated by in school. I was not athletically inclined. More of a life spectator than life participant. Most of my stories were retold tales of other peoples' adventures. Sure, I spent four months in Beijing. I have an interesting story behind meeting my wife. There are other moments worth mentioning. But nothing that really made even me stand back and say "wow".
I often wondered if I even mattered. Outside my little circle of family I was curious (concerned) about my impact on the world. A former supervisor had a saying about our individual worth in the workplace. Put your hand in a bucket of water then pull it out. If the water does not fill the space your hand occupied then you are not replaceable. Otherwise we are all interchangeable. Not an entirely true statement but I get the point. And my pleas for assistance in this career confirmed my own diminished self-value. Ask for help enough and the response (or lack of) is telling.
"Do I matter to you once we part ways?"
So I longed to matter. I yearned to end the invisibility. I want to be noticed. Not for ego. But for value. I believe that all anyone wants is to know that we matter. On some level we affect people in positive ways and have a lasting impact. Whether it is art, music, literature, business or sports the impact one makes can be monumental or sublime. I don't need a ticker-tape parade down Main Street. A simple "thank you for being you" is usually enough.
Running has shredded my invisibility. My training motivates people to get active. (So I'm told) My racing inspires people to set goals. (So I'm told) My writing encourages people to share their own stories full of triumph and tragedy.
Sometimes I wonder about my place in all this. Maybe I am "too out there". The crazy thing is that every time I ponder receding to the shadows for a breather something amazing happens before I am able to retreat. A new connection is formed. An intriguing opportunity arises. An awesome recognition is bestowed upon me. These moments remind me that people see me in a way that I recently that foreign.
My wife jokes that I ego is growing to an uncontrollable proportion. An running friend commented that "the genie is out of the bottle". I think it is simple that I no longer shrink into the shadows. I try to stay humble. Speak with me in person and you will see it. I am still shy in social situations. Public boasting is still not my thing.
My new visibility has amazing consequences. Old friends are taking up running. Strangers are becoming new friends. Opportunities to test my limits and shatter my boundaries are coming up fast. No one truly knows how this all affects me, but I am impacted.
I don't long to "hear" myself talk. I don't need to have my ego stroked. I don't care to amass a cult-like following. I do hope to hear that someone improved an aspect of their life due to my example. Inspiration often arrived out of the blue. Encouragement may come from unexpected places. The best statement I could hope to hear would be "I did this because you did it too."
I am tired of hiding. Tired of being unnoticed. Tired of being inconsequential. I am not tired of running though. I have so many miles to go and so many stories to live.
Or something like that... Running has brought amazing, caring, wonderful individuals into my life. And no one has asked anything of me other than to believe in them. To be honest and trusting and hopeful. To be a friend. I run to live.
I have a few stories to tell. Some are public. Some are private. What I do know is that telling my story has helped heal the people involved. My story has comforted people, knowing they are not alone in their suffering or struggle.
Discovering my "visibility" is the cause of my smile today.
