Thanksgiving is hands down my favorite holiday. I love its simplicity: family/friends, food, and football. No presents, no songs, no crazy giant blow-up decorations (I call them "lawn dirigibles"). Don't call me Scrooge yet--I don't have anything against Christmas. I just think that for some folks it's excessive--like an overly coifed girl with too much makeup--she'd be alot more attractive if she didn't try so hard. Also, Thanksgiving makes us think about all the great things we have instead of craving for what we don't have and hoping it's in a box under the tree.
That being said, I'm thankful for kindred spirits. I think that on some level all of us feel like we're outcasts and don't belong (hence the popularity of the Harry Potter books). So when we find another person that has the same interests, hobby, opinion, or tendency we can make a connection and feel like we belong. It probably has something to do with humans being pack animals some 18 ba-jillion years ago.
When I met Coach Mary 3 years ago, I didn't know she was THE MARY EGGERS. At the time she was my spinning class teacher; and I knew she was a nurse. I'll never forget the day she came to class, her hair quite a bit shorter, and announced,"My mom's been bugging me so I finally got my annual haircut." I gasped, "Can it be? Someone else-who's not a Sikh or lives in a 3rd world country-- besides me who gets their haircut only once a year ?" A lively conversation ensued about the ridiculousness of regular trips to a hair salon. We became instant friends.
Kevin tells me he knew I was the girl for him when I reluctantly told him that I only read books by dead authors. I cringed as I said it, expecting him to roll his eyes and think me a literary snob. Instead, I think I saw little pink hearts floating above his smiling face. I knew then we were cut from the same cloth.
Yesterday, I sought out the butcher at Wegman's meat counter. I said, "I need a 6 pound, 3-rib roast: a "top choice" roast cut from the small loin end, ribs 10 through 12. Could you please french the rib bones." I was expecting a blank stare or *Blink* *Blink* and a blank stare or audible eye rolling. Instead, he seemed tickled with the request and went on a rant about where the best cut of prime rib comes from. A fellow meat snob!
So what does any of this have to do with triathlon? Is it time to start training again? Have I filled my idle off-season hours reminscing and talking beef with the local butcher? Starting Monday Kevin and I are back "on-season". For me, it means rejoining old friends and comrades. While I've seen and run with alot of the tri folk in the off-season, that connection of working toward Ironman, half Ironman goals wasn't there. I really missed it--the structure, the focus, and--of course!--the kindred spirits!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment