The Case of the Withering Sock Monkey

I'm getting ready to run my last race of the year.

It's a half marathon in it's inaugural year and as such, the course looks really fantastic.

Filled with fun landmarks, rolling hills, good people and hopefully, a little more fall-like, beautiful weather, I think it will be a great way to end 2014.

In an effort to let anxiety and expectations go, I've been drinking out of a coffee mug to help bring me back to the basics.

It boasts a well known quote, but a good one.

peace.
it does not mean to be in a place
where there is no noise, trouble
or hard work. it means to be in
the midst of those things and still
be calm in your heart.
(unknown)

Post this last Half, I have to decide what to do next.

I turn 40 in 2015 and have an opportunity to run another marathon, take my hand at a triathlon or focus on 10K races to try to increase my speed.

A friend recently mentioned that I should keep running because I love it so much and try to publish an essay or submit a piece to "Modern Love," my favorite column in The New York Times.

Her words were...writers write...just like runners run.

And why not?  There's nothing to lose.  You'll never look back and wish that you hadn't tried.

And then she saw, my older son Sam's well loved, in need of being mended, sock monkey...

 

and said, "See, that will be you, if you don't do something that is just your own outside of your family, over time, little bits will fall out."

Oh, for the Love of God, I retorted.  I do plenty that's just mine.

"No really, you need to have something that you dedicate time, effort, passion, and elbow grease to that at the end of the day can only be claimed for yourself...or pretty soon, you're going to be the real life living case of that pathetic sock monkey."

Oh Christ...(laughing)...you're so fucking melodramatic.

"I'm just saying...we only live once.  How are you going to make that big heart of yours proud?"

And then, she left.

Damn it.  She's kind of right.

What will I do that will be all mine?  Particularly if it doesn't involve full-time work for some years to come.

Alright, here's to Walt Whitman...

"That you are here—that life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.”