(TopCounsel) said:I can say with total honesty that the happiest single moment in my life was the following morning
as I cycled along the farm track to the local shop to buy bacon and eggs for breakfast. I really,
really, thought my heart would burst, I was just so *completely* happy. The nice thing is, I only
have to close my eyes and I can remember almost exactly how it felt.
Pardon me? You call this writing 'feminine' and 'nauseating'? Why? Because it expresses emotions in
a manner you find uncomfortable? Because it came as an unpleasant shock to discover such words
secreted amongst the dickey knees and the requests for a 10k schedule? Because you really don't give
a fcuk what makes me happy?
I think you have to consider, for a moment, why any of us are here on Usenet, indeed why any of us
participate in any communal aspect of society. Sure, it's about sharing information on a subject of
common interest, reinforcing our beliefs or having our beliefs challenged. But we can do all that
without communicating. We can read books, use the net, hire instructional videos, etc. We don't
*need* to interact directly with others to acquire knowledge or to improve our understanding of a
subject. That we choose to do so suggests that there are more complex factors at work other than the
mere information-gathering mechanisms.
My 'contributions' to rec.running rarely centre on the mechanics of running - such information is
available more succinctly elsewhere - they dance around the 'whys and wherefores' of a life centred
on running. I'm attempting to create a total picture of a running life
- sure, it's got lots of other stuff all jumbled in there too, hence the 'feminine' posts - but
running provides the core stability and direction that enables me to face failure with stoicism
and success with humility.
There are a number of posters here who've been through - some are still experiencing - trying times.
They choose to use running as a link with their past life or as a lifeline to better times. Some
write to me about their lives. I hope my replies to them make sense, or that the pictures I paint
using words are of relevance to their world and situation. Point being, running is a mechanism
through which some of us choose to see the world. It's a physical manifestation of our personality.
We try too hard, fall over, then get up and try hard again. Sometimes we aren't up to it, sometimes
we surprise ourselves. It's fun, it's exposed and it's very real. It's ghastly to watch when it goes
wrong, and it's beautiful when it goes well. I like living in an emotional, edgy, challenging world.
Sorry, that's my feminine side peeking out again.
I will accept that I'm at one end of the spectrum - that perhaps I provide a little *too much
information*. Nevertheless, it's a place in which I'm comfortable and in which I intend to remain.
Almost the last conversation I had with my father before he was killed concerned my hopes for
my future. I gave the usual 'fighter pilot/war hero/saviour of the world' answer - he grinned
his approval
- but then added that in achieving these lofty goals I may well miss out on the hardships life has
to offer. After I'd suggested this was no bad thing, he thought for a while and said that,
perhaps, one day I'd see it differently. And sure enough, thirty-odd years on, I think I was
taught more by my failures than my successes. In fact I'd go so far as to say that a life without
failure - deep, depressing, glorious failure - is only half a life, indeed it's a life with the
best bits missing.
If you're afraid of failing, of making a fool of yourself, of rejection, of ridicule, you make
yourself a hostage to the dreams of others. You forever measure yourself against their standards,
standards you neither own nor are able to influence. To me, writing 'nauseating' thoughts on
rec.running is as important a freedom as the right to run the trails unmolested. It's a simple
statement of 'me'. You're entitled to your opinion, of course, though I'd venture to suggest it
isn't *your* opinion you're offering, rather the opinion of a soul conditioned by behavioural
constraints that suffocate your true personality.
C'mon TC. As you sit in your office write one emotion-strewn sentence that you'd REALLY like to say
but are afraid of what others might think. Then delete it. There! Even that felt good, didn't it?
The only *real* difference between us is that I'd press 'send'. Well, that, and the fact that I'm a
nauseating girlie.
