Got up this morning, 5:30, still dark, chilly, clear. Love mornings, the quiet, empty streets. Hopped on my bike and went for a ride over the Lions Gate bridge and around Stanley Park’s sea wall. Before traffic and tourists, love it.
It was TORTURE! Before I made my first circuit around the park my aching body begged to point my tires home. I know my last blood work showed I was a bit anemic. The iron in our blood binds to oxygen, therefore pushing more around, feeding the organs and muscles, blah, blah… I knew it wasn’t that. My head wasn’t in the game. I hit the road without that, positive push required by anyone taking on such a physical challenge. Yeah I know, wasn’t running a marathon or anything. But I’m not in “great shape” yet and need be in the positive frame of mind to make sure the already difficult task isn’t made more difficult.
Let’s go back a few years. Nineteen Seventy-Eight: the cold war still raging, Grease, Superman (with Reeves), Animal House, Saturday Night Fever, etc. I was in grade Eight where every gym period we had to do our run, about 3 kilometres, and I’d often be first in. In the time between grades three and six I was always the tallest and widest in the class (with the accompanying merciless euphemisms), then between six and eight I germinated to beanstalk proportions. Was so long ago and how I faintly keep the jeering insecurity that comes form having been a chubby kid. *sigh*
Anyway, that summer the Commonwealth Games were in Edmonton, Alberta, about 400 kilometres east from where I lived in Grande Prairie. So in June, not long before the year finished out we had our own Commonwealth Games. Each class took a country and did the thing of having a parade of nations. My class taking India, we all wore turbans… yeah, 1978, before the PC police set up a local constabulary.
So, all kinds of running, jumping, throwing things about. The goal of each class being to accumulate the most gold medals in the school; and back then, there were no medals for participation, it was win or lose and deal with it!
Towards the end of the day was our version of the marathon, the 3 kilometre run. Everyone expected me to bring in the gold! So many telling me I’ll do it! Well this awkward, insecure teen didn’t take it as encouragement, but the opposite! I became more and more fearful till, standing at the starting line, I was mentally handcuffed into believing I’d trip at the start line and get no further.
Off we ran. At first I kept up with the guys out front. But it wasn’t easy, my legs felt they were of iron. Needless to say I wound up closer to last than first. To the great disappointment of my classmates! My teacher! Mr. Dorval, an obese blimp of a man with a rapier wit, explosive temper and oh I shall not forget his favorite saying: “there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth!”. Hmmmmm… looked that up, apparently from the bible and in each instance it pertains to being “thrown into darkness.” Nice.
Through the years this became a great lesson that times I’d take to heart, other times, ignore, to great detriment to whatever I was trying to accomplish.
Stay positive my friends.
© 2012 by DC Lessoway