Archives for August 2009

Now this is the sort of thing that I’d like to say I have done. It is an Ultramarathon through Death Valley. To my mind it is among the ultimate examples of mind over matter. Take a look at these facts from the CNN story:

135 miles through Death Valley, California

Start: 280 feet below sea level
Finish: 8,300 feet on Mount Whitney

Race time limit: 60 hours, 48-hour cut-off to get a belt buckle

Course pavement exceeds 200 degrees F, same temp used to slow cook a pot roast

Dangers: Heat stroke, organ failure, hallucinations, huge blisters, severe dehydration

Some of you will read that and think that the people who do it are crazy and perhaps they are, but there is something about it that really captures my imagination. It is unlikely that I will ever attempt it. Running is not where I excel, or should I say long distance running.

But I am still interested in doing the Ironman. That is a different sort of test of endurance that I think I am better suited for and would be just as proud to finish.

The dark haired beauty looked up at me and asked me if daddies ever cry. I smiled back at her and said that sometimes they do. She looked up at me and asked why she hadn’t ever seen me cry. I smiled again and asked her why.

“Abba, it is ok to cry. It doesn’t mean that you are a baby,” she replied. And with that she pulled my head down and kissed my black eye. For a moment I stopped and stared at her, not really sure what to say. So I hugged her and told her that she was right.

And then I thought back to a post I wrote five years ago called The tears that do not fall. In that post I related the story of how a 14 year-old boy swore that he wouldn’t cry anymore. That post stands out for a number of reasons. It was among the first in which I really opened up here. It was among the first that made me realize that there was far more potential here than I had ever realized.

It stands out because it is our character for me. I suppose If you only know me through the blogosphere that might sound strange, but in person I am relatively guarded and careful with what I am willing to share. I don’t open up very easily. Too many years of doing otherwise.

Five years later I still rarely cry. It is better than it was. It is easier than it was, but it is still rare. In fact, I don’t think that anyone has really seen me cry in person since I was that teenage boy. I won’t say that it is impossible or unlikely for things to change. It is a safe bet to say that one of these days that will change.

But it is not going to come easily. I look back at that post and five years later much of it is familiar, too familiar. Don’t misunderstand, I don’t see crying as a panacea for all that troubles me. I don’t think that it is going to fix all of the challenges I may face at a particular time. I am not convinced that it is always going to make me feel better.

But I think that it will help. I think that some things that bother me may disappear or at least fade away more quickly. I think that it might make it easier to let go. For now I suppose that I will just have to wait and see what happens.