Any Given Saturday...

Tuesday, September 29, 2009 at 9:34pm

On any given Saturday, nations wake up in the millions to prepare for the glories of the day to come. From August to December, Saturdays are sacrosanct. If Sundays are reserved for rest, reflection, and religion, then Saturdays are proud paragons of people partaking in the prized past-time that is college football. History. Tradition. Rivalry. Monumental victories and shocking defeats. It's more than the players with their athletic ability and acrobatic performances. More than the coaches with their quirks, faux pas, and mannerisms. More even than the innumerable fans whose roars fill stadiums across the country. It is, simply, the game. The legacies of over one hundred years of storied programs and sixty minutes of roller-coaster scores and emotions. We live for Saturday.

On any given Saturday, no one is safe. Pre-season rankings are worth less than Zimbabwean dollars. People talk of parity in the game. Well there is no game that has more equality than college football. Give me any team. On any field. On any day. All it takes is one play. One first down. One inch. One touch down. One player. At the end of the day the rankings don't matter. Teams are motivated by pride, respect, revenge. Players are motivated by their coaches, their fans, their families. Every game is a playoff game. Upset lives on Saturday.

On any given Saturday, a hero can fall. People who are barely into the early years of adulthood stand as gargantuan giants in our smitten eyes. We rally, cheer, and yes, even worship our college football heroes. Yet even heroes fall. A torn ligament, twisted knee, shattered bone, or blow to the head can remove our heroes from the game. Yet despite the trials and travesties that befall our favorite players, they endure. They seek the best medical attention, train harder than anyone else to get back to who they are, and return to us a hero reborn. Hope lives on Saturday.

On any given Saturday, Championship seasons are validated. At the end of the season when we look back on all of the great games, tackles, break-out plays and jaw-dropping moments, we oft-times forget to understand where the turning point was. How did one team not make it to that January bowl game? What was it that led this particular team into the national championship game? We need to remember that every game plays its part. One blocked kick, and a number one team stumbles out of the race. One last-second catch, and another team jumps into contention. Every team. Every game. Every play. National glory lives on Saturday.

Below are a list of some of the best quotes there are about football. After each quote I've tried to include something relevant to this admittedly early 2009 college football season.

The college football season is like a nuclear war: there are no winners, only survivors.
Within the first four weeks of this college football season no less than 10 top 10 teams have fallen to opponents. Ten teams in four weeks. That's competitive parity for you.

Football is only a game. Spiritual things are eternal. Nevertheless, Beat Texas. - Seen on a church sign in Arkansas prior to the 1969 game.
I don't care who you are, college football is a religion. It transcends most logical reasoning, but literally hundreds upon hundreds of thousands of fans bleed their school colors week in and week out in order to cheer for their football teams. Passion personified.

After you retire, there’s only one big event left….and I ain’t ready for that. - Bobby Bowden / Florida State
As crazy of an old man as Bobby Bowden is, he is one of the greatest living coaches in college football. He's seen decades of teams, players, championships and seasons. Seasoned, is the word for Bobby Bowden. Entrenched veteran of the trenches. The man will coach three years after they stick him in the ground.

When you win, nothing hurts. - Joe Namath / Alabama
Ask Jimmy Clausen, who continued playing to lead the Fighting Irish to victory over Michigan State after tearing a ligament in his big toe. Ask true freshmen quarterback Matt Barkley of the USC trojans who played with an injured throwing shoulder to lead the game-winning scoring drive over the Ohio State Buckeyes. At the Horsehoe. At night. On national television. Winning is the best pain-reliever.

There’s nothing that cleanses your soul like getting the hell kicked out of you. - Woody Hayes / Ohio State
Ask Oklahoma after losing to BYU in the opening week of the season. Think they don't have a chip on their shoulder? They are hungry for the chance to beat Texas and leap frog into the national title race. How about the University of Miami? The U just took a painful lesson in defeat at the hands of Virginia Tech. Two one-loss teams with something to prove, playing for supremacy in an upcoming game. Ladies and gentlemen, they couldn't script this stuff any better.

You can learn more character on the two-yard line than anywhere else in life. - Paul Dietzel / LSU
Ask current LSU coach Les Miles. He sits at #4 in the AP poll this week instead of being the fifth team in the top ten to lose. How did they win? With a goal-line stand at the one-yard line against the Mississippi State Bulldogs. You don't have to win pretty, so long as you win. Again, it's about survival.

I make my practices real hard because if a player is a quitter, I want him to quit in practice, not in a game. - Bear Bryant / Alabama
Good old Rich Rodriguez of the University of Michigan. He took a lot of crap coming into Big Blue and winning just three games last year. Over the off-season, some disgruntled players started leaking how he was breaking NCAA rules by making his players work too hard. Players working too hard? Give me a break. Athletes who complain about tough practices need to be broken in, and broken early. Now he sits undefeated with the makings of a BCS contender. The man should be wearing a shirt that reads: how you like me now? Speaking of hard practices, ask Gary Barnett, who actually had to sit and listen to parents complain about their sons' practices being too hard. Excuse me? This isn't the powder-puff league. This is division I college football boys and girls. Poor guy is dealing with a bunch of pansies. No one at that program should wonder why they have a losing record going into tough conference play in the next few weeks.

Always remember…Goliath was a 40 point favorite over David. - Shug Jordan/ Auburn
There are no upsets in college football. Because everyone can lose. Anyone can win. Just because so-called 'experts' say a game should play out a certain way, doesn't mean it should be a foregone conclusion. More teams have suffered season-ending losses by overlooking someone they were 'supposed' to beat easily.

Show me a good and gracious loser, and I’ll show you a failure. - Knute Rockne / Notre Dame
I hate Lane Kiffin. The man is not fiery, he's needy. He's not angry in defeat, he's petulant. It's like having a spoiled nine-year old throw a tantrum for getting everything he deserved and nothing he wanted. He is one of those people I really would enjoy watching suffer through physical agony. Inexplicably, Lane Kiffin's only redeeming quality is his beautiful wife. Congratulations Lane, you snagged a great wife, some great recruits, oh, but the job you were hired to do, you suck at. Again.

If lessons are learned in defeat, our team is getting a great education. - Murray Warmath / Minnesota
Of all the big-conference teams, there is only one still without a win so far in the season. That's right, the Virginia Cavaliers are 0-3 after losing to the powerhouse of C-USA Southern Mississippi, and, even better, Bowl sub-division team William & Mary. Folks, this was supposed to be the EASY part of Virginia's schedule. It's going to be a long season.

The only qualifications for a lineman are to be big and dumb. To be a back, you only have to be dumb. - Knute Rockne / Notre Dame
This is more of a "haha, I'm laughing because I sympathize" more than a sarcastic remark, but my heart has to go out to USC running back Stafon Johnson, who while weight training with his teammates had the bench-press bar slip and partially crush his throat. He needed immediate surgery, and thankfully he'll make a full recovery. Bench-pressing is considered one of the safest weight-lifting exercises that an athlete can do, especially with a spotter, which Johnson had. I'm just lucky that he'll be able to look back on this incident in a few years and laugh at himself about it.

It isn’t necessary to see a good tackle. You can hear it. - Knute Rockne / Notre Dame
If you've ever been to a game with a good tackle you've heard it. The entire stadium feels it, lives it. And every time it's played on the jumbotron, you hear it again. Or you can just be sucker-punched after the game like Oregon running back Legarrette Blount did to Boise State player Brian Hoyt.

I’ve found that prayers work best when you have big players. - Knute Rockne / Notre Dame
Everyone always talks about how amazing this quarterback is, or how fast that running back. I guarantee you a team's offense is only as good as its offensive line. Any average quarterback can be good behind a strong offensive line. Just look at teams like USC, Texas Tech, Georgia, Alabama. Hell, even look at teams like Miami. Jacorey Harris is a great passer, especially when he can sit in the pocket for 10 seconds to make his decision. The same goes for Florida's and Alabama's running backs. It's the big men that create the output.

Gentlemen, it is better to have died a small boy than to fumble this football. - John Heisman
Turnovers, turnovers, turnovers. Rare is the team that wins when you turnover the ball. Was BYU's loss to FSU that impressive? Or was it the fact that they coughed up the ball FIVE times. Was Florida's win over Tennessee really just average, or was it the three Florida turnovers that kept it from being the spanking that everyone expected? Turnovers rule the game. If the other team turns over the ball and you don't, watch out.

One of my favorites is this exchange with John McKay...

Reporter: Coach, how do you feel about your team's execution?
McKay: It's a good idea.
Every once in a while you'll get a coach to blow up after a game. You can always rely on Nick Saban of Alabama to turn a great win into a steady stream of critique's on his team's play.

Football is not a game but a religion, a metaphysical island of fundamental truth in a highly verbalized, disguised society, a throwback of 30,000 generations of anthropological time. - Arnold Mandell
Couldn't have said it better myself.

There are two kinds of people in the world, Notre Dame lovers and Notre Dame haters. And, quite frankly, they're both a pain in the ass. - Dan Devine, former Notre Dame football coach
I love Notre Dame for their rich tradition and history. Almost no other team held as much sway as Notre Dame has in America's football history. That has become tarnished in recent years which a much aligned program, bad coaches, bad players, and unjustified hype. But never deny who they were, and what they mean to the sport of college football.

When it comes to football, God is prejudiced - toward big, fast kids. - Chuck Mills
As previously stated.

I feel like I'm the best, but you're not going to get me to say that. - Jerry Rice
One of the best things to love about college football is the LACK of showmanship. So many players in the NFL are all about them. They carried the team. They're the star. I love it every time I hear a kid interviewed after a game say how it was a team effort, or how well this player did in contributing to the game. Culture and media glorify the individual. The sport revolves around the team-effort.

Some people think football is a matter of life and death. I assure you, it's much more serious than that. - Bill Shankly
College football is all. 'Nuff said.

Do right. Do your best. Treat others as you want to be treated. - Lou Holtz
Joe Paterno. Is. The. Man. The guy has been involved with coaching at Penn State for over SIXTY YEARS. The man was coaching for the Nittany Lions BEFORE THE COLD WAR STARTED. There is no greater coaching legend. There is no greater ambassador for the sport. There is no greater doorway to game's history and legacy, then Joe Paterno. And the man can be summarized in one word: class. He is the epitome of respect. He's earned it. From everyone.

Build up your weaknesses until they become your strong points. - Knute Rockne


The difference between a successful person and others is not a lack of strength, not a lack of knowledge, but rather in a lack of will. - Vince Lombardi
Case in point: Cody Grimm. The Virginia Tech linebacker does not deserve to be anywhere near a college football field. He's under six feet tall and barely 200 pounds. A relative midget in the world of defensive safeties and linebackers. But the kid has heart. He's the Hokies' version of the modern-day Rudy. The kid will work harder, sacrifice more, and lay his life on the line for the passion he has. There are few better vessels to carry the soul of a fighter than that of the underdog.

If a team is to reach its potential, each player must be willing to subordinate his personal goals to the good of the team. - Bud Wilkinson
It's not about your draft status. It's not about how many receptions you get in a game. It's about what you can do for your team. One of the greatest things about college football is individual sacrifice. When college players start focusing more on individual stats than their team's well-being, college football will die. Just look at the NFL.

Winning isn't everything, but it beats anything that comes in second. - Paul "Bear" Bryant
At the end of the season, there can be only one...

My Educational Philosophy...

Wednesday, September 16, 2009 at 9:18pm

Why Do I Teach?

Parents… Students… Teachers…
Too often we are scared.
Scared of what we might not be able to do.
Scared of what people might think if we tried.
We let our fears stand in the way of our hopes.
We say no when we want to say yes.
We sit quietly when we want to speak up.
And we shout when we should keep silent.
Why?
After all, we only get one chance. One opportunity.
There's really no time in life to be afraid.
We cannot afford that luxury.
So stop. Listen. Act.
Try something you've never dared but have always wanted.
Take a chance. Gamble on hope. Think big. Go outside the box.
My educational philosophy is simple.
Challenge yourself.
Intellectually, academically, physically, philosophically...
In the real word,
there are two kinds of people: those who talk, and those who act.
Walk the walk, forget the talk and learn from your mistakes.
For it is through our failures that we launch to great success.
Follow a leader or lead the followers.
Either way, get moving. Now.
Have a goal, make a plan, and just do it.
Expand your horizons, look beyond what's in front of you. Explore.
Think big and start small.
Don't start what you don't believe in...
But finish what you start.
Always stay the course.
Listen and hear… don't just do one or the other.
Think of your students first, and always be true to the cause.
Walk the Path, and Light the Way.
Share your ideas with every student you meet.
Shake their hand, look them in the eye, and remember it for life.
Remember that…
Wiping your hands clean is a good thing
As long as it isn't with someone else's blood, sweat and tears.
But don't be afraid to dig deep within yourself.
After all,
You have nothing to lose...
Except your fear.
Only everything,
Everything… to gain.

Why do I teach?

Why would I do anything else...

Are You There Darkness?

Sunday, August 23, 2009 at 12:09am

Alone. So quiet. Yet still I can feel it there. Waiting for me. Taunting me with its reach. I know what it wants and I know what I have to do. Refusing to open my eyes, not able to face what I might see, I huddle in on myself and work the moisture in my mouth to ask a simple question:

"Are you there, Darkness?"

Barely audible, the words seem to die out as they leave my lips, their strength fading once given birth. As if in answer to my pitiful query, I feel the surrounding Darkness press in on me.

"Of course you are," I say to myself. "You’re always there. The real question is- are you listening? For your sake I hope so."

I have spent so many days in fear. Jumping at every little sound and keeping all the lights on. Why, you might ask? A fair enough question, if a rather simple and expected one. The answer is just as simple. Because someone made me fear the Darkness. Someone taught me that it held dangers, and monsters, and that evil lurked in its murky shadow. Someone has tried to make me cower. Someone has conjured an illusion of the world through which to corrupt my senses, my instincts. Someone has threatened that which is most precious to me, hope, and I am here to tell you that you will hold no power over me from this moment forward.

"Do you hear me Darkness?" I asked as my voice gained a little intensity. "No more."

I walk the path of peace not only because of my heart’s flow but because I am not equipped to change you on my own, or anyone for that matter. Do you think that will stop me? Do you think because I am weak and my will often bends to my emotions that you can control me? Make me change who I am as you please?

You must, else you wouldn't have tried so often, but no more. You cannot harm me. You cannot touch me. You will never harm me. For mine is the pursuit of something greater. I will not be deterred. I will not be defeated. I will not allow it.

"Do you hear me darkness?! Well?!"

I can stand up for myself. I can stand tall with my held high and though tears may stain my cheeks I will never falter. You can lash out at me with terrible pain and the scars left behind may last the rest of my life but I will hold up the flesh for all to see as a testament to the triumphs of my cause. I will lay bear my heart to the world and shout "Behold! These are the Paths I have walked and the roads I have taken. These are the wounds I have suffered and the trials I have endured. These are my victories and though they have left me scared, terribly scarred, I have gained from their making through my journeys. That is something the Darkness will never have for the Dark cannot bear the Light of a heart shining through with confidence and belief."

So come for me in the night. Try to shred my thoughts with doubt. I can be scared and that gives me power for what scares my mind and scars my body will only make me stronger. Bend me, burn me, blight me, bleed me. But know with the futility of one doomed that in the end you will never break me.

"Do you hear me darkness? I accept you. I take you into the furthest recesses of my mind and the deepest secrets of my heart. For it is from you that I find my Way to the Light. From you I gain the force of an indomitable will."

I am not the child you once beheld. I neither cling to the safety of the Light of others in desperation nor do I fall into that place from whence you came. I am my own well of courageous temperament and will fear you no longer. I have grown to accept all facets of life and the shadow of this world.

"Do you hear me darkness?" Softly. So very softly now. Soft as a silken sheet sliding across bare steel. "Do you hear me darkness?" I say it for the last time, and my eyes reflect the fires of my heart as endless pools of light. "You are nothing to me. Be gone."

------------------------------

There is a world that exists beyond what the naked eye can see. Too often we find ourselves relying on our sense of sight as our sole means of perception. I have always thought that the sense of touch was misperceived. We limit our understanding of touch to the physical sensation produced by contact with our skin, yet in my opinion it is so much more. Rather then a sense of touch, I consider it to be a sense of feel. Something that goes beyond the mere physical to include our ability to feel that sensation. Just as a particular sound or smell, for example, can illicit a specific response based on more that just the sound or smell by itself, so it is with the sense of touch, or feel.

In many ways, I consider empathy to be a very present characteristic in humans. As with any other trait, its presence and strength, or lack thereof, varies from person to person. Yet there are people who can literally feel how another person is feeling, and they can establish a bond with the people they interact with. At least, that is what I believe. I also believe that our existence is defined by perceived belief. Something can either be true or false based on whether or not we choose to believe in it, and how strongly we hold that belief. It's as if the world were refracted six billion different ways, each unique to the beholder. What one person sees as a solid truth may be an ephemeral veil of transparency to someone else.

If this is the true, as I believe it to be, then belief becomes one of the defining characteristics of our world as we choose to perceive it. My point, if I have been able to successfully convey it, is that the Darkness as I wrote it above represents the doubt, worry, fears and distractions ever-present in our daily lives. We are the child who is addressing both themself and the surrounding Darkness. The Light, is the clarity of purpose and the determination of will that comes through belief. So when you find yourself staring into the dark abyss, fear not, but embrace the Light through belief. You know it is there, even though you cannot see it. You know it is there, simply because you believe it to be.

The Ramblings of a Man in the Dark...

Wednesday, August 12, 2009 at 1:12am

...waiting for the simple beauty of a meteorite shower. Just a man alone with his thoughts in the darkness. Scary when that man is me. Here goes...

So often we search for meaning and purpose in our lives without realizing the truly simple notion that it has no meaning. There is no purpose. By any conceptualization of the term we fail to understand that less is more. Don't search for meaning and purpose in some vision of the future. Grasp it in the here and now. There is no other time. Anything worth having in life should never come too easily. It is the dim haze of mystery that adds enchantment to pursuit. Life throws problems at us on purpose to make us value that which we have and earn through our efforts. Fear, then, truly is the mindkiller as Frank Herbert once wrote.

Fear casts the shadow of doubt in our minds which in turn cloud our hearts. Our own hearts, that which is most beloved of our inner desires and emotions, begin to counsel us against taking action because they cannot bear the pain of hurt and suffering that accompanies any loss we find. Weakened in our resolve, and led astray by our own emotions, we choose to close ourselves off from change and embrace the status quo. We're afraid to rock the boat, so we sit in the middle of the lake without moving. Shakespeare summed it up nicely when he said that of all the wonders he had ever known, he could not understand how people could fear death knowing that it is inevitable and must come at some point in our lives.

Oh, every once in a while we'll cast a longing gaze to the far shore, and dream a dream of time gone by. A time when hope was high and life worth living, a dream of love that never dies. No better way to phrase that which Victor Hugo wrote in Les Miserables. Yet though we'll dream a dream so sweet, we choose not to stir our hands or feet. We scoff that dreams are like little toys, fit only for the minds of girls and boys. We lay back in our little boat, and watch bitterly as hope can't float. Until one day we wake to see, no longer is what once could be. So different now from what it seemed; life has killed that dream we dreamed.

My addition to Hugo's lyrics were not meant to be in rhyme, but for some strange reason I've found myself drifting more and more towards its usage. Regardless, I feel it conveys my point. We fear to hope, because hope can lead to disappointment. Our fears pollute our instincts and natural intuition, that which some people call impulse or gut-feeling. You will never know yourself until you face the truth. For everything there is a purpose, and life has a way of conspiring to give us signs that we have the choice to acknowledge or ignore. Even the misgivings of our hearts serve a purpose. They work to protect us, but sometimes in order to gain everything that life has to offer we must be willing to sacrifice everything. To live, is to risk.

We must therefore learn not fear vulnerability but rather to embrace it. Cast off fear and doubt, and accept life for what it is. Duality. Paradox. The equal possibilities of suffering and joy in every moment, every choice, of our lives. Just as we can shield ourselves from pain by refusing to go after what we want, we can arm ourselves with what we need to get it. Knowledge. Learn from what life has to teach. In every breath and every moment there is new experience to be gained and no textbook, no sermon, and no teacher can replace one of the most precious gifts we have in life. Learning through experience. Faith. Believe in the possibility of achieving your dreams. Believe that, even in failure you are a stronger person and are enriched in your life because of it. Believe, above all else, and before anyone else, in your self. There is no force greater in this life than believing in one's self beyond all measures of doubt.

So now comes the time of choosing. By now you've given thought to a dream or three and without fail there has been an attempt by your mind to dispel it. Often we create such potent defense mechanisms that we don't even recognize them for what they are. Have you ever had a stream of thought just disappear in your mind? Or choked back a reply to a question you were asked? I have always been intrigued by the unspoken language. There is so much to be heard in what is not said. If you could only learn to feel what is constantly surrounding us, your perception would discover an entirely different means of communication.

Well now let us say you have pushed beyond fear of the mind. You have a firm grasp of what it is you want and you are not swayed by frivelous questions of when and how. Well done! Yet all of a sudden we will feel a hollow emptiness within our chests. We've pushed past the fear in our minds only to stumble headlong into the fear of our hearts as I have already discussed. Once you can master yourself and control your fear, you are only one simple step away from living your dream. You have to take a simple step. Literally or metaphorically, you must take the initiative and begin the journey. Do not worry about the difficulties. Take a stand, take a breath, and take a step. You'll get there.

And so I lay beneath the stars watching the mystery and beauty of the universe unfold above me I choose to leave you with a few words of wisdom from men far more knowledgable (and quotable) than I. As ever, I hope that these words find you well, and more than anything else, find you questioning that which you have come to accept. To the future.

"Worship the gods if you wish, but first, know thyself." - Socrates

"Worry never robs tomorrow of its sorrow. It only saps today of its strength." - A.J. Cronin

"Seek and you will find, knock and it shall be opened, ask and it shall be given to you." - Jesus Christ of Nazareth

"If you don't ask, you don't get." - Mahatma Ghandi

"Thousands of candles can be lighted by one candle and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared." - Siddhartha Gautama, The Budha

"The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams." Eleanor Roosevelt

"The greatest man is he who chooses right with invincible determination." Seneca the Roman

"Between living and dreaming there lies a choice." - Marcos Redondo (*cough*. and yes I always have some of my favorite quotes handy)

The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Runner

Saturday, August 1, 2009 at 1:20am

"One of the hardest things in life is having words in your heart that you can't utter." - James Earl Jones

I remember a day sitting outside beneath a porch watching as the rain poured down over the beautiful green countryside. As if from a veiled mist a silhouette appeared along the horizon. Traveling along a worn path wearing shorts and a sweater the shape began to take form. It was a runner. I remember putting down my book to watch as they passed by rhythmically running, as it seemed, in step with the fall of the rain. Captivated by the scene as it unfolded before me I tried to make sense of the myriad of thoughts and emotions that played across my mind. In a matter of moments that seemed to last much longer the runner was gone. A momentary vision quickly lost to my sight as they were embraced by the falling rain like a shroud. As I returned my attention to the present moment from my reverie I found myself trying to make sense of what I had just witnessed. Out of the confusion of my mind a single phrase made itself clear to my conscious mind as I took my pen and scrawled it along the inside cover of the book I had been reading. When finished, I looked down to reflect upon the only words I could use to describe what I had witnessed: The loneliness of the long-distance runner. I didn't know who the runner was, didn't know where they were from or where they were going. I just remember feeling a profound sense of longing as if a part of me had left with the runner. Or, maybe it was just that I longed to be the runner. This all occurred long before running instilled itself into the very depths of my soul, but I've recently begun to think about them once more. A wraith in the mist. A figure of solitude, carrying a solidarity of purpose like a banner across the sky. So ominous, the individual with their relentless sense of purpose. So alone, with no one and nothing but themselves. So alone...



"The woods are lovely dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep." - Robert Frost

Far away is the land of rest,
For the lonely one who runs.
Endless miles that you must test,
Neath the passing of the suns.

Wasted now this traveler,
Whose wearied woes wear on
Darkness threatens purpose sure,
Yet still they run towards dawn.

Running through the emptiness,
Running through the day.
Running through the dewy mists,
Running for the Way.

Often they look up to the heavenly sky,
Often they looks down to the dreary road.
Often they wish to lay down and die,
Often they wish to surrender life's load.

Though the faint may not uptake the part,
Yet still they stare in wonder.
It remains for those who have the heart,
To shake the world with thunder.

The loneliness of one who runs,
A soul bereft of hearth and home.
Nay, these are gifted lucky ones,
Their chosen destiny to roam.

So if you ever feel so deeply pained,
By one who seems to wander.
Be comforted in knowledge gained,
They live to travel yonder.

Do not despair or lose control,
Wear hope upon your chest.
Know that you will reach the goal,
And win the final land of rest.

"I want to know the thoughts of God. All the rest are details." - Albert Einstein

I am an overly passionate person. I tear up in movies. A lot of them. I'm deeply moved by seemingly insignificant displays of nature. Like koalas sleeping on a tree. Yet nothing in my life has compared to the sights I have witnessed while searching the road on my lonely, long-distance runs. I stood on the apex of a bridge after hours of running following an all-night adventure. Standing there, watching the sun rise, I knew joy in my heart. Spontaneously climbing the summit of a mountain after spending the afternoon trekking the trails I gazed across the open sky, and felt serenity flow through my consciousness. Wandering through city streets in a foreign world and marveling at some of man's most beautiful architectural achievements, I stood alone in a sea of humanity, and felt kinship with the universe. Battered and broken by the road I set out to conquer, I stood beneath the starry sky not knowing where I was, and felt beauty's caress stream down my face. All the roads I've traveled, and all the paths I will. The loneliness of the long-distance runner may be a part of who I am, but I will never have to ponder the thoughts of God on my journey. Never alone.

"The difference between great people and everyone else is that great people create their lives actively, while everyone else is created by their lives, passively waiting to see where life takes them next. The difference between the two is the difference between living fully and just existing."
- Michael E. Gerber

I've got the bit between my teeth now, as the saying goes, and I might as well continue. I remember once reading a poem that said running a mile would give you a smile. Well despite the pain and fatigue that the miles may bring, there is nothing quite as satisfying as seizing life and challenging yourself to some new feat whether it is some no-name dirt path or the famous streets of a world-class race. Either way, you can feel brave within your heart when you push off from the start. You can live decisively with your feet as you run across the street. You can know certainty within your soul, when you finally end and reach the goal. The start, the finish and the steps in between are many experiences as plain can be seen. Yet singly thought of they come up as one, the race of your life is never quite done. It's not about winning, it's not about wealth. It's not about glory, or even your health. So why do we do all this running we do, I know the answer's within me, the rest's up to you.

"I always loved running...it was something you could do by yourself, and under your own power. You could go in any direction, fast or slow as you wanted, fighting the wind if you felt like it, seeking out new sights just on the strength of your feet and the courage of your lungs." - Jesse Owens

What more can I say? I ran as a young child, barely off my mother's apron strings. I couldn't even jog as a youth. I learned to run at the end of high school, and lost it periodically throughout college. Now my sights are set beyond the heavens. Yet ever since I was a little boy I loved it. There is nothing between me and running. It is the single most pure and simultaneously most purifying aspect of my life. Wherever I am, wherever my travels take me and wherever the weave of my life leads me to, I will always have that dear and comforting presence to carry with me. The roads I travel on may indeed be lonely ones, but in many ways I have been alone for nearly my entire life. Perhaps that explains in some ways my strong connection with running. I've never had to feel alone, even if I was.

"Now bid me run, and I will strive with things impossible." - Shakespeare, Julius Caesar

I have stumbled and I have fallen. I have faltered and I have strayed. Yet each time I have found my way back. The closer one is to the light, the darker their shadow becomes. Such a great paradox for the attaining of one's life goals. And though I may not be that strength which in yesteryear moved heaven and earth, that which I am, I am. One tempered soul of heroic heart, made weak by time and fate, but strong in will. To strive, to seek, to find...and not to yield. My adaptation of the end to Lord Tennyson's Ulysses is perfect for where I am now. I will achieve what no one has ever done before. For no other reason because it is believed impossible.

"We run, not because we think it is doing us good, but because we enjoy it and cannot help ourselves...The more restricted our society and work become, the more necessary it will be to find some outlet for this craving for freedom. No one can say, 'You must not run faster than this, or hump higher than that.' The human spirit is indomitable." - Sir Roger Bannister

The reasons why...

"I run because long after my footprints fade away, maybe I will have inspired a few to reject the easy path, hit the trails, put one foot in front of the other, and come to the same conclusion I did: I run because it always takes me where I want to go." - Dean Karnazes

Warrior of Light

Friday, June 19, 2009 at 10:41pm

The past week has shown me another world beyond that which I have known. A new adventure, with a culture and language unlike any I had previously encountered. Beyond that, though, was a strange sensation that I have rarely experienced but have learned not to ignore. It`s almost as if there were something important lying just beyond the edges of my peripheral vision, or a thought that exists in me but I cannot grasp it within my mind. Glimpsed only in moments of epiphany and revelation, they illuminate the Darkness.

I had a dream where I was surrounded by total Darkness. Unable to see myself in the depths of a total abyss, I was alone. Lost and afraid, I cast about aimlessly in search of something, anything, to help me escape. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, I discovered the Other. When surrounded by complete Darkness anything that cast a light would have to be called brilliant. Seemingly far in the distance, I made my way toward this bright light. Shining like a white star, I staggered toward the pale glow as if grasping for salvation itself. The nearer I came toward the light, however, the more I found myself in doubt. Bathed in this glorious light, I found myself...cold. I was surrounded by light, and yet felt no better than when I had been surrounded by darkness.

Sinking into the depths of Despair once more, I found myself anguishing in the pain of utter emptiness. Yet, deep within the Void of nothingness, I found yet Another. So deep within myself that there seemed no distinction between that and the Darkness, was a small flame. Unlike the pale, brilliant light that I had seen from afar, this was a small and pitiful thing. Casting a harsh illumination against the black of Night, Shadows surrounded the fire. Yet even from a distance, I could feel the warmth that lapped against my skin like the softest brush of fingertips across flesh. Folding in upon myself, I realized that this flame was not just located within me; it was me. Sparked by a single emotion, I began to feed all of myself to this single flame. All of my despair, the anguish I had felt, everything. Not only did I find myself closer to the flame, but it began to feed off of my emotions, fighting back the Darkness. Unshed tears began to stream down my face, until even they were burned away by the flame. Within me and before me was a flame so hot that it seared skin and boiled blood, yet still I embraced it. With the pain came a cleansing fire that purged me of everything I had known in the Darkness. Standing within the roiling flames, they licked at the Shadows and fought back the Darkness until I stood within the center of an inferno.

The pale light still called to me from afar, but I no longer heeded its deceiving call. A cold, pallid light that left emptiness inside was a pale imitation of this life-giving fire. And so I stood alone, an orb of encased heat and light standing sentinel. A bulwark against the Darkness, and a beacon of warmth in the cold emptiness of Night.

Now, I didn`t really have a dream exactly like that, but I did have a dream that I built upon into the recreation I have depicted above.

------------------------------------------------

There is some comfort in the emptiness of nothing; no past, no future.

So I call upon you to be the fire which resolutely stands before the Darkness,
Which won't be diverted from its purpose, no matter how difficult the path may be.
A flame that does not falter, nor does it fear the endless Night.
For even if it takes years, the flame will not falter.

And if your will sleeps I call upon you to wake it again,
Because inside of everyone of us is a Warrior.
Whose courage is like a sword,
And whose biggest weapon lies within our own heart.

So let us stand together now,
Rise and find each other now,
To all the warriors of light
To all our enemies we fight.
Wherver you may be this day,
You're wanted here,
So come and say:
To all the warriors of light
Standing true and shining bright,
This goes to all the warriors of light.

Do not fear your weaknesses,
But turn them into your strength.
Never fear to admit your mistakes
Be deliberate in your spoken word,
And free from worry and doubt.

Don't let yourself be led astray,
Don't let yourself be stunned dazed.
Learn to forgive and learn to forget
Learn to serve, and serve to learn.

So let us stand together now,
Rise and find each other now,
To all the warriors of light
To all our enemies we fight.
Wherver you may be this day,
You're wanted here,
So come and say:
To all the warriors of light
Standing true and shining bright,
This goes to all the warriors of light.

And though the world will impose its limits
We will rise above them; go beyond them.
Our power is our faith; the unwavering belief in the impossible.
Fight for nothing, and for everyone,
This, is why we are warriors.

---------------------------------------------

Every Warrior of the Light has felt afraid of going into battle.

Every Warrior of the Light has, at some time in the past, lied or betrayed someone.

Every Warrior of the Light has trodden a path that was not theirs.

Every Warrior of the Light has suffered for the most trivial of reasons. Every Warrior of the Light has, at least once, lost faith in themself.

Every Warrior of the Light has failed in their duties.

Every Warrior of the Light has said 'yes' when they wanted to say 'no.'

Every Warrior of the Light has hurt someone they loved.

That is why they are a Warrior of the Light, because they have been through all this and yet have never lost hope of being better than they are.

A warrior of light knows that they will hear an order in the silence of their heart which will guide them.


With regards to a person`s destiny, I believe we do what we can, until our destiny is revealed to us.




Enjoy...more to come later. Aragato daimasu!

Orange Blossoms...

Tuesday, May 12, 2009 at 12:18am

(Originally started on October 13, 2008)

Dark clouds swirled overhead as storm winds cut through the city, which fit his mood like the dark forest-green gloves fitted snugly over clenched fists . Before the sun would set on this lightless day the Companions would be mustered outside the city walls and ready to march. For how long was a question few were willing to consider, and none within earshot of the Lord Captain.

Kaitze sighed. Had it really been three years since the Lord Captain had taken him into service? A boy whose highest ambitions rested upon cutting enough purses and fulfilling enough contracts to gain some measure of comfort in a nameless backwater town? So much had passed in that time. So many changes. Kaitze looked at the man who had brought him so far. A nobleman by birth, which normally would have sent Kaitze running in the opposite direction, but Graidon was different. A man who fought a tireless battle every waking second. Where other men would bow to the strain or retreat in the face of overwhelming odds, Graidon would stand fast alone surrounded by utter Darkness. Come to think of it, he already had.

Suppressing a rueful smirk, Kaitze stood as he realized that Graidon was striding for the door. When Graidon had first entered the antechamber Kaitze had not noticed the changes, but as he paused in front of the door a number of startling revelations made themselves apparent. The fact that he was wearing full plate armor and his sword did not surprise Kaitze at all. Not anymore; not after recent events. What did give him pause was that his Lord Captain, the man he looked up to and admired, no longer wore the colors of the Imperial House. Instead of the gold and green Kaitze had become so accustomed to was a rich blend of blue and white flowing down the back of a full-length cloak. Blue-steel greaves and vambraces reflected a pale light that illuminated the room in a eerie glow. Kaitze was already so astonished that he surprised himself again by nearly gasping when he noticed the emblem on the Lord Captain's chassis. There in the center of his breastplate, plain for all to see, were two symbols that could easily start a blaze that could engulf the entire City: three blue snowflakes strewn overhead a leaping white hare. The Winter Army The name sent a shiver down Kaitze's spine and froze the breath in his throat.

If his reactions were only half as visible to Graidon as Kaitze thought they were, he showed no sign of them. "Kaitze," Graidon's voice was as hard as ice and as yielding as a winter storm. "I need you to do something for me."

"My Lord?" Kaitze could feel himself tensing in the shoulders; wishing he understood what all of this meant. It seemed that events were spinning out of control far too quickly for any thought to be had.

"Find Ingwold. Tell him to ready the men and form the legion. Outside the Gate of Twilight. Set camp for the night five miles east along the North Road. I'll rejoin you there before full-night."

Kaitze's confusion continued to grow. None of this made sense. "My Lord, I hear and obey, but if I may ask, where will you be?"

"I must say goodbye Kaitze. I must see her one last time."

Confusion turned to alarm as suspicions were confirmed and pieces began to fit together like one of Ingwold's Shadow-cursed puzzles. "Lord Captain, you know the King's Decree. No one may set foot on Palace grounds without first receiving his permission. In person. I'm not asking you to change your mind, but please at least let me go with you!"

The winter-hard gaze softened with a warm smile Kaitze had not seen in what seemed like an eternity. "No Kaitze. I go alone. I need to see her for myself. By myself."

"But what if the City Patrol, or the Royal Guard see you? I'm sure they've heard the news by now and they may try to stop you."

Graidon turned to face his student and friend, and Kaitze took a step back involuntarily. "I hope that they try, Kaitze. I very much hope that they try." With those words, he left.

As cold as the winter that forged him, and as pitiless. Kaitze released the breath he had not realized he was holding. As if his brief pause had taken an hour instead of mere moments, Kaitze gathered his things from the room before quickly closing the door to the Lord Captain's chambers for what would almost certainly be the last time. Now there's a sad thought. And I was just finally getting used to walking around these halls with a sense of permanence. Everything changes. That last thought had been in a voice other than his own. Sadness atop of sadness.

Hurrying to find Ingwold in the Companion's barracks, Kaitze changed his mind about the Lord Captain's armor. In all their time together Graidon had always been a man of compassion and mirth. Stern at times, even fiery when in battle, but never cold. Kaitze had never seen his eyes burn with such intensity before.They won't even have time to notice his armor.

As Kaitze made his way into the Barracks the storm broke overhead. There was a storm coming, and its fury would shake the foundations of the entire kingdom.

---

Graidon left Kaitze in the chamber and allowed his thoughts to drift while navigating the broad corridors. Gold-encased lighting and richly woven tapestries passed on either side as unnoticed as the patterned marble underfoot. Kaitze was a good man, and an irreplaceable companion in more ways than one. Graidon put his old friend from his mind as he exited the building and tread along the paved boulevard toward the Royal Garden; to say farewell, and to offer his last Oath.

Graidon could see the sun's dull light fade as it fell beneath the hills in the west. Most people were already outside of the Imperial Sector heading toward home or were holed up in taverns drinking, gambling, dancing and otherwise forgetting the troubles of the day. Pausing for a moment at an inn called the Emerald Twins, Graidon took in the sound of merriment and music. A three-storied building, the blonde-haired woman with bright green eyes painted on the hanging sign explained the name of the inn just as the sounds drifting from the windows betrayed its clientele. A place for young nobles and off-duty officers, the Emerald Twins offered any number of distractions depending on the amount of gold changing hands. With enough gold, the distractions could be very lavish indeed. With a rueful shake of his head, Graidon moved on. Everything he knew of the place came from Kaitze. His knowledge of such places seemed limitless at times.

Returning his attention to the immediate surroundings, Graidon noticed a squad of patrolmen making their way down the road to check that everything was in order in this part of the city. Without breaking stride, Graidon circumvented the patrol by casually striding into a side-alley. It would not bode well should he be noticed and confronted by the City Watch so near to the Palace. Graidon was in no mood to answer questions, but fighting his way through the city would not serve his purpose one whit. Nearing his destination, and safe from curious eyes, Graidon slowed his pace. Winding his way through the narrow walkway was a matter of routine for Graidon. So many years spent protecting these streets and those who walked them. Before he realized it Graidon had reached the entrance. There, across the cobblestone street stood the gates to the Royal cemetery.

Located near the border to the Great Forest that spread for miles all around the southern portion of the city, the cemetery was a small piece of acreage meticulously tended to and maintained by palace servants. Several clustered groves marked the different lineages that the royal family had descended from. Graidon had never been allowed to walk its hallowed ground when he was a young boy of course, but that had not stopped him back then. He had went in search of adventure and returned with more than he ever would have imagined. Barely...

Climbing the wall would be impossible with its smooth, marbled surface. Even if he grew an inch a minute he would still need...well, he wasn't quite sure how many minutes it would take to get tall enough to make the jump. Looking to his left, he laughed when he saw the solution...

No. Graidon slammed the door to that memory. Harshly. Its brief recollection stirred powerful emotions. There would be time for memories later. Reflection would have to bide its time. Drawing a ragged breath made him aware of just how long he had be staring at the entrance.

He had not been allowed within the royal cemetery then, and he most certainly was not allowed inside now. With firm resolve, Graidon made his way to the entrance. Just as it was when he was a child a solid lock was built into the finely-crafted gates. Lacking Kaitze's patience or skill with subtleties, Graidon focused a small thread of his Strength into the joint at his fist and crushed the lock. Pushing his way in,the gates gave way grudgingly, screeching in protest on hinges no longer properly aligned. Moving quickly, Graidon made his way inside. The gates were patrolled, and his time was limited.

The path that led to the different grove-stands was straight and lined with rows of white rose bushes.
Taking the first fork to the right Graidon walked to where he knew she would be. As the trail gave way to the cluster of trees Graidon felt a sad smile alter his frozen face. Orange blossoms. Memory stirred again, of a young woman singing beneath orange blossom trees, and laughter. A time long passed. It seemed ages ago, and yet the memory was as strong and clear as if he was reliving the previous day.

Standing beneath the trees, Graidon breathed in the smell of the trees and hoping to stay in the moment longer, but his time was short. Too precious to spend on a memory.

Walking slowly into the center of the grove, a single Sentinel stood silent vigil over the marked grave. Frozen in its duty, the statue would watch over the spirit and ward against any who would try to defile this consecrated ground. Beautifully carved in detail, Graidon paid it less heed than the wind buffeting his cloak. His eyes were locked onto the marker of a tomb. Hertomb.

As if the weariness and strain of the past months had just made themselves known, Graidon sank to a knee and slowly touched his head to the stone. There he stayed, as if becoming part of the serenity that surrounded the grove. Inside, his thoughts swirled with the tumult of a tempest wind.

I...I am lost without you.Graidon had never before believed in the spirits the Brotherhood so often preached of, but she had. She had believed, and had kindled a spark within him that now was gone. Yet she had believed, and so he reached out in desperate hope. I failed you. That first night I promised I would see you home. I swore on the light of my soul that I would protect you. I could not be there. I could not...From the depths of despair rose a swelling anger tinged with a blind rage that searched for an outlet. Graidon fought a war within himself to contain the fury that would shatter the peace of Elloren's resting place.

Suddenly, the aura of Graidon's Iscu surrounded him like a blazing star. Consumed by the cold-void that seemed an abyss within his very soul, he scoured the emptiness with fire. Trembling with the force of it, Graidon's voice rattled as a whisper from his lips that reverberated through his skull with mind-shattering force. Strength to succor. Power to protect. Life for light. Defend 'til death. Shaking with the effort of invoking such a powerful Oath, Graidon stumbled to his feet. Laying a hand on Elloren's tomb, he envisioned her face one last time. My soul is forfeit,atemorenus,and I shall know no rest this side of death. Watch over me, and we shall meet again in the Realm of Light, where no Shadows fall. Just as you told me long ago. Goodbye, my light, and my life. Goodbye.

Walking down the path toward the entrance, Graidon felt a sense of peace within himself. His grief would forever consume him, and the world had lost its luster, but now he had a purpose. A conviction so firm that it would light his path and guide his hand in the days to come. He would hold his Oath no matter the cost. No matter what forces arraigned against him. He would see it done.

Feeling a shift in the breeze, Graidon suddenly spun away from a presence he sensed more than felt. The faint trace of another Iscu had just appeared from behind him in the opposite direction of the only entrance to the cemetery. From where he had just descended. Reaching for his sword, Graidon prepared his Defense...

...and stopped dead. Letting his sword-hand drop from the hilt, his wide eyes could not have expressed more surprise. There, standing beneath beside the path with the grove of orange blossom trees in the background was the last face he ever thought to see.

"It's not possible..."

Sinking in a Memory

Sunday, May 3, 2009 at 4:13pm

Well it's been far too long since I've actually put something up. Felt the muse this morning, so I of course stopped what I was doing so I could write this. Hope you enjoy!

P.S. - I had more trouble thinking of a name for this than actually writing it...not sure if it fits. :\
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Sinking in a Memory

Glancing through the palm trees, at the moonlit sky
With the sea breeze blowing, I walk this empty line.
I close my eyes a moment, taste the memory
A ghosted smile befalls me, as through my mind I see...

And I can't resist, no I can't turn down
Seems a sinking man's just as glad to drown.
And I'd tell you this, but I don't know how
There's no time to waste so I'll sing and shout.

Love to feel you on me, and the way you smell
With the way your lips feel; oh your finger nails.
The way your tousled hair looks, strewn across your face
There's no where to go now, between us no space.

And I can't resist, no I can't turn down
Seems a sinking man's just as glad to drown.
And I'd tell you this, but I don't know how
There's no time to waste so I'll sing and shout.

It's the way you thrill me, then glance my way.
The way you seem to want me, a little more each day.
And it's what you're thinking in your shrouded mind.
The way your body trembles, when it's next to mine.

And I can't resist, no I can't turn down
Seems a sinking man's just as glad to drown.
And I'd tell you this, but I don't know how
There's no time to waste so I'll sing and shout.

Now my eyes are open, still the same soft night,
The stars are shining on me, they cast a guiding light.
I lie down in my bed, sleep will bring the day,
Wonder what my dreams now will have to say...

I said I wonder what dreams will have to say...
I think I know the dreams I will have this day...
I like the dreams I'm having, I think that I'll just stay...
I'll hold these dreams tonight lest they fade away...

The Life you Were Born to Live

Sunday, April 5, 2009 at 6:14pm

There are times in our lives where we question ourselves. Young or old, we ask: is this right? Is this who I am? Is this all that my life is or will ever be? The answer is simple. The answer is for you to decide. As always.

Your life will never change so long as you look at it in terms of routine and focus on the minutia. Western lifestyles have increasingly focused on material gain and appearances over the last few decades, and to what purpose?

In order to find meaning and purpose in what you do there has to be something that guides your actions and binds you to some greater goal. Whether it's raising a loving family or owning vacation homes in a dozen places, without the commitment and drive you will never reach your goals. Even if you do, without devoting yourself wholly to your beliefs and giving all of yourself to your endeavor you will never feel fulfilled in your purpose. No one can tell you what these things are. You have to find them for yourself. There are guides out there who can help set your feet on the Path, but it is for you alone to walk upon it.

So it's four in the morning on race day and I have been up for a little while now. I'm not nervous. I think the last time I felt nervous before a race was a few moments talking to a good friend of mine right before my first IronMan. I was in my wet suit and we were standing underneath the morning rain in the water of the lake we were to swim in.

This is it, I thought.
This is where it all begins.

Today, I am not nervous: I am excited. Expectant. These are the moments which help define my life. They answer all of the important questions in my life. "Who are you?" I am IronMan.What do I want? To experience life at the extremes so that I may taste of all it has to offer Why are you here?I am here to become something greater than I am.

These are the moments that define our lives.

I walk from my race hotel toward the swim start, my mind simultaneously blank of all thought while extraneous emotions flutter across the surface of my mind. The morning is overcast with the occasional warning of the day to come. When the time comes, I enter the water and immediately feel the cold soak through my wet suit. Much of what athletes do comes through routine and practice. It's one thing for me to run 100 miles in the heat of Summer. I live in Miami. Heat and humidity are my bread and butter. It is quite another for me to experience cold atop cold. The water was cold. Still, I felt good during the swim. Despite meandering sideways a few times along the first lap I managed to make it across in about 42 minutes. The second lap of the swim was much better as I learned my lesson and hugged the buoys. I had to deal with more traffic, but after being kicked a dozen times along the first lap I realized there would be no way for me to avoid other people in a mass start with 1,700 athletes in the water at the same time. My second lap elapsed in 34 minutes, a marked improvement for a swim time of 1:16.

As I exited the water I did not even notice the cool breeze beginning to pick up. I was too busy running through ankle-deep mud and trying to get into the transition tent. Once there I immediately dismissed all ideas of keeping my feet dry and clean. The entire changing area was a churned mass of mud. Soon enough I was on my bike and headed up the road and out of the city of Port Macquarie. The light drizzle that accompanied me wasn't so bad, but the stiff breeze coming from the coast chilled me to the bone. I made the first of three laps in good time, averaging 19 miles per hour despite one of the hilliest profiles IronMan has to offer. I knew I was in trouble though. Along the course there's a climb that rivals anything I have ever ridden previously. It held the largest number of spectators and was brutal on the legs. The first time I climbed the hill I felt my quads seize up in a pair of nasty cramps. My legs were frozen to the bone, and wet to boot. I turned the corner after the hill into a decline. After shifting to a heavier gear I immediately turned again into another uphill, and my shifter skipped two gears. Normally, all that means is you have to down-shift again and allow the chain to reconnect, but on a steep climb it means big trouble. Despite managing to get a foot on the ground the steep grade of the climb caused me to fall over. Now I was cold, wet, cramped and bleeding from several nice gashes on my legs. Still, I persevered, jogged up the hill and remounted.

The second lap was brutal. There's no other word for it. The rain and wind picked up, and at this point I began praying for sunlight. Just a little bit of warmth to take the chill off my bones. The days before the IronMan had been warm and sunny in comparison, and this sudden shift in weather pattern had caught me completely by surprise. I look back on it now and don't remember details. Simply long-stretches of pain and whimpering thoughts of the cold. My body was shutting down, and I had not even finished half of the bike leg. The course proved to be very harsh for a number of people as I saw no less than seven crashes and more than a dozen riders on the side of the road with flats. The conditions of the road were poor for over three-quarters of the course, and it made riding more difficult. Obviously, these conditions were shared by every rider, but that does not diminish the demands it placed on me as an individual.

There was one point in particular on my way out in the third and final lap of the leg course. I was literally counting out my revolutions as a means to distract myself from the cramping and the cold. I didn't even realize there was a pretty nasty bruise on my left leg at this point from the crash. I guess the cold was good for something. I was about 80 miles into the cycling when I suddenly heard a small pop and a sharp hissing sound. My breath froze in my throat. All I could think in my head was No. No. Please no. No, no, no! I listened sharply to determine which of my tires had popped when I suddenly realized it was coming from the rider I was passing. Mumbling a sympathy to him as I continued riding, I couldn't think for the sensation of relief washing over me. A flat tire at that point would have ruined me. My elation only lasted a few minutes before I continued my plodding into the wind.

I finally crossed the transition line at about 8:40, giving me a disgusting split on my bike of seven hours and twenty minutes. A full hour slower than my bike split in IronMan Kentucky. Still, aside from being partially frozen I was in no way tired. And I was going into my strongest leg: the run. After taking meticulous care of my feet in the transition area, I began the run with a cautious enthusiasm. I wanted to make sure that I gave my legs time to warm up before doing anything stupid. The first six miles of the run passed by in a blur, and I started to pick up my pace. The wind was still blowing, and it was hard for me to keep any body heat with my tri-suit still wet. I crossed the first lap in just over an hour and realized that I had a real chance to make up for my lost time. My legs were cramped, my body cold and a tingling sensation spread from my lips throughout my face and fingertips. I could feel my body beginning to go into shock and I had to take in salts badly. At one of the aid stations along the course they gave me some Vegemite. A disgusting pasty substance that Australians give to babies. Aside from having a bitter, salty taste, there's not much to say about it. It even looks disgusting. Still, it did the trick, and it helped me avoid the worst of the problems I could have faced.

Before I realized it I was making my way toward the finish line climbing up the last hill. And then my knee gave out. Simply collapsed from under me, and I fell to the ground. I could definitely feel that bruise now. A couple of the race volunteers came over to see if I was okay. I couldn't even stand. I could see the finish line from where I lay, and I couldn't get up. I told them how I was feeling and they helped me up. Limping on my good knee and supporting my weight on their shoulders, they took me to a chair on the side to see if I was okay. No more than a minute or two had passed, but I was so close I just wanted to finish. They told me they would help me down the chute, but I refused. I told them I couldn't hobble down across the line like that. They took me across the side of the lane and was going to walk me through the finish, but the gate was locked. Of course. So instead of walking all the way back to where I had been pulled to the side, they literally lifted me over the rail as I grit my teeth in agony. That was how I crossed the line finish line at IronMan Australia. With a grimace of pain, and under the help of a volunteer. My marathon time was 3:15. All the energy I had not been able to summon on the bike came out during the run. My final time for the IronMan was 11:58:59. A personal best, and an incredible race despite all of the problems that beleaguered me throughout the day.

Looking back on the day I realize what an amazing experience the race had been. I remember laughing when I woke up the morning after the race to a beautiful sunny day. The race had fallen on the one day of the week where the weather was horrendous. Not the day before. Not the day after. Everything happens for a reason. Sometimes the only thing we can do is laugh at what life gives us. So it was with this race.

I guess in many ways IronMan encompasses the struggles of my life. You can just stand there out in the middle of nowhere under the cold rain as the concept of time flashes before your eyes. Swimming and riding and running for hours on end you can just think as if for eternity. The effort in the race a manifestation of what I want to express as an individual. To have no fear. Never to fear what you may become. To depend on no one. To perform feats that free your soul as they enslave your body. A way for me to share my inspiration with the world.

I am IronMan. I want to experience life at the extremes. I will become something greater than I am.

The Palm 100 Ultramarathon Relay Race

Wednesday, April 1, 2009 at 12:17am

"We run. Not because we think it is doing us good, but because we enjoy it and cannot help ourselves. The more restricted our society and work become, the more necessary it will be to find some outlet for this craving for freedom. No one can say, 'You must not run faster than this, or hump higher than that.' The human spirit is indomitable." - Sir Roger Bannister

If you push the human body, it will respond. Push your body hard enough, and it will break. It is when your body breaks that your real potential shines through. As a runner, I push my body every day. Running a marathon, I push my body hard. However, a person does not run an Ultramarathon; it runs you. Ragged. Ultramarathons break runners. The distance taunts you. The heat oppresses you. Time slows and your body rebels. It is in our will, though, to push past the obstacles. Break through the barrier and become something more. It is our will that asks us whether or not we will be strong in the face of adversity.

...

I woke up on the morning of March 28th around 4:00 a.m. I showered, stretched and got ready for the day's adventure. I was exhausted. I went to sleep at nearly midnight and the little sleep I had managed had been broken and troubled. Today's journey however would be unlike any I had previously experienced. Not in terms of climbing to new heights of awareness or breaking through previously impossible barriers, but rather in that I would not be doing this along. Much of the past two and a half years have been spent building and living a life by myself. Especially with running. This would be different. This time I would be running as part of a team in a race that would test each of us as an individual runner as well as presenting difficult obstacles to the team as a whole.

One hundred miles. Eighteen teams. Six members per team. The Runner's Angels. My team. I've always been obsessed with angels. Even as a young child they fascinated me. These messengers of God served innumerable purposes through which the Divine interacted with the mortal world.

God does not communicate or act through direct contact. God uses energy such as through the use of fire; fire is moved through motion of the sphere; the sphere is moved by means of a disembodied intellect. These intellects are the 'angels which are near to Him', through whose mediation the spheres move. Thus, totally disembodied minds exist which emanate from God and are the intermediaries between God and all the bodies here in this world. – Adapted from the Guide of the Perplexed II:4, Maimonides

I thought to combine my love of angels with a humorous team name. So I made a play on "Charlie's Angels" and created the team known as "Runner's Angels". However, a name is meaningless without the people who embody that name. They become a physical manifestation; a symbol behind the meaning of a spoken word. Runner's Angels. So who are they?

First we have Valeria: The Firecracker. The passionate one. The team's confidence and energy. The girl who runs into pain, and then runs through it into the next leg. Next comes Galey: The Blonde Bombshell. The track star. The blister queen. She runs each of her legs like a 5k race and refuses to fade. After that we have Pietro: The Italian Stallion. Mister dependable. Got a bridge to cross? He's got it. Go over it again? No problem. Always ready to lend a helping hand. Up next is Jasper: The Silent Runner. The long leg and the long-legged. Though he was lost in the beginning he came through in the end. Then there's Ed: The Architect. Literally. The Navigator. The man who came through for the team in so many ways. The soul of our cause. I give you the Runner's Angels.



An hour after waking I'm at the parking lot of the Broward General hospital to meet with my teammates and get the team van ready. Excitement courses through each of us as we prepare for the journey ahead. Walking to the start line we say little of importance. Already the bond we are forming has taken the place of verbal communication. Other teams have uniforms or matching shirts. We wear a panoply of different colors and styles. In its place we hold a single-mindedness of purpose. A fierce sense of competition and the will to fight. The will to win. Confidence exudes. The banner goes up. The teams get set. The gun goes off.

And so it begins...

Pain is to be embraced, not feared. The heart is the most powerful muscle that we humans possess. Through hardship, we learn the secrets of our greatness.

I lead the team off with the opening leg. All thoughts of pace and planning are dismissed as the runners ahead of me film my vision over as though I were a charging bull. I settle in behind the lead runner for the first two miles to settle my body into a comfortable state before I begin to push the pace. The lead pack begins to string out until it is just me and one other runner. A few confusing moments about our direction keep us near each other but once the bearings are clear I pull away for our first scheduled exchange after five miles. Ed picks up the team's cause as we succeed in our first hand-off and give clear warning of our intentions: we are here to win. We held the lead for virtually the entire one-hundred miles of the race.

Valeria and Galey each put in a fast set to extend our leg before Japser takes his long leg for the day. Pietro closes off the last leg of our first rotation simultaneously reaching the first checkpoint of the race. Thirty-one miles into the race at just over 3:38. Our lead over second place is four minutes. I pick up again at the checkpoint to begin our second rotation with another five mile leg. The sun begins to make its presence felt and the wind teases us at first providing a cool reprieve from the burgeoning heat and then buffeting us against our inertia as we fight against it. Our second rotation sees shorter legs by the runners to compensate for the heat and the fatigue of having to run for a second time. By Ed's third run we have reached the turnaround and second checkpoint at 53 miles. Our time: 6:18. Our lead over second place is at least fifteen minutes, even with the second place team's runner somehow managing to end up ahead of me on my third leg without having ever passed me. Still, we ran on with our race following the course map and held a solid lead going into the last half of the race.

"It hurts up to a point and then it doesn't get any worse." - Ann Trason

We thought the wind had been a factor on our way up to West Palm Beach. We were wrong. That was just a prelude to the real challenge of the day. We spent the entire course south running into a strong crosswind that forced us to fight twice as hard to make any progress at all, let alone run at a decent pace. Yet we pushed ourselves. Through pain, and heat, and wind; we fought on. The elements slowly gave way to our will and the heat's effects slowly diminished as our bodies refused to break. Galey reached the third checkpoint at mile 76 in 9:09 and our lead was now well over 35 minutes. This was no longer a race to win. This was no longer a race for first place. The last 24 miles became a race against ourselves. Instead of victory, we sought domination. We did not want to beat second place. We wanted to break them. We would obliterate them.

The last quarter of the race was hard for all of us. Despite our hunger for victory the day had taken its toll. Although the last 24 miles only took 3:09 to complete it was a hard-fought run for each and every mile we ran. Every member of the team showed their true resolve in that last part of the race. There was no quit in any of us. We kept the same intensity as we had done the entire day. We began the race as a team 6 a.m. Saturday morning on the 28th of March 2009, and that is how we finished; at 6:18 p.m. the same day. From start to finish, we ran the 100 miles from Fort Lauderdale to West Palm beach in 12:18. Second place? Over an hour behind us.

We had accomplished our goals. Every one of them. We ran the relay and finished. We competed and won first place. We had fun. We created a blend of shared memories that will be remembered for the rest of our lives. We created bonds of friendship that will stand the test of time. I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to run this race with such great runners and such wonderful people. Thank you all for making this such an incredible experience in my life.

Competition: It's in my Nature

Saturday, February 28, 2009 at 3:10pm

"We fight because it is our nature. It is the calling of our heart." - Michael J. Stracyzinski

February 26th marked the last day of my physical therapy. Four months of working on rehabilitating and strengthening the ligaments in my knee, particularly the torn meniscus that first caused me problems back in September. From there I suffered a number of overuse injuries leading to hematomas, internal bleeding, scar tissue, range-of-motion loss, and general muscle fatigue. Four months of fighting to get back to a level that I had worked so hard to achieve. The constant sense of fatigue, exhaustion and frustration was only exacerbated by the limitations my body placed on itself. My heart wished to soar, but my feet would no longer leave the ground. It has been very hard for me.

Four months of gritting through pain as I worked to regain stability in my knee and balance in my hips. Squatting through tears and lunging through knots. Anyone can achieve their goals when they are in top form and at the height of their power. The true test of a warrior's spirit is when they are broken and beaten down. When their support system is gone and their body hangs by a thread. When temptation offers comfort and rest to the weary body and hopeless mind. It is there where true grit is shown:

"It's at the borders of pain and suffering that the men are separated from the boys." - Emil Zatopek

I've never shied away from a challenge since I first began my journey two years ago. I have continued to demand more and more from myself even as I recover from the last accomplishment. The first year saw my first marathon, triathlon, 1/2 IronMan and full IronMan. The second year saw my first Ultramarathon and first 100 mile Ultramarathon. I'm in my third year and by the time I finish with my goals for this year I will have discovered an entirely new definition for terms like pain, fortitude, and crazy.

I suppose the most difficult transition throughout this entire process has been learning how to balance my body's training with the amount of time needed to recover. When I first started out in the Summer of 2006 I was huffing and puffing my way to finish three miles. By January 2007 I was running 6 1/2 miles seven days a week. Summer of 2007 I was running 9 miles a day and either swimming or biking. A year later I was running 12 miles a day and swimming or biking.

All of that took a serious hit when I started adding in weight training in addition to what I was already doing. I didn't even realize it but I was training for about 5 1/2 hours a day for four days a week and still training the other three. It wasn't that I was doing too much; I was just doing too much with too little rest time in between. So I learned the hard way. Like with everything else it was a learning experience.

"Winners build on mistakes. Losers dwell on them." - Arnold Mori

So for the last four months I have tried to claw myself back to the point where I could finish my workouts and still feel good and energized. It's an on-going process but at least I am stronger for the road I have taken.

"A competitor will find a way to win. Competitors take bad breaks and use them to drive themselves just that much harder. Quitters take bad breaks and use them as reasons to give up. It's all a matter of pride." - Nancy Lopez

The day after I finished my last therapy session I wanted to hop into the pool for a nice slow swim to let my muscles relax and get myself used to a slow workout. I recently thought about how I was training and I realized that every run, every swim was a high-intensity workout where I pushed myself to exhaustion. I really needed to focus on different kinds of workouts with individual goals in mind. So I hopped in the pool and was off to a slow start...just like I planned.

After about a half mile of a very slow, relaxed swim I noticed someone get into the next lane as I started another lap. Immediately I started telling myself to keep taking long and slow measured strokes and to maintain the pace I was swimming. The guy had a chiseled body; the type I had always wanted but traded for video games and ice cream way back when I was about 10 years old. It's always been a source of pride for me that I compete in these races with men that have phenomenal bodies, and I beat them. It reminds me of the old saying that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover. Or the great line from Transformers, way back before the movie was released: "More than meets the eye."

"The healthiest competition occurs when average people win by putting above average effort." - Colin Powell

So this guy starts off swimming at a fast pace and within 100 yards catches up to me. I had already noticed myself extending my stroke and pushing off with more force as he approached me. As he passed me I continued to tell myself to stick to the plan. Yeah...that lasted for about 10 seconds before he started to pull away from me. I started to lengthen my stroke and use my upper body strength to keep myself half a body-length behind him. We made a few turns and he saw that I was still right behind him so he started swimming faster! Challenge, extended. I'm sorry, it's one thing to come in and start swimming at your own pace, but if someone is going to try and prove that they are better than me it's going to fire me up like you would not believe. Challenge, accepted.

Normally, when I swim, I don't really use my legs at all. I flutter kick to keep myself afloat and to get a little extra push but most of the propulsion comes from my upper body. I do that because it allows me to save my legs for the bike and run portions of my triathlons. So as we made the turn and he started to swim faster I began to kick. Nothing like a sprint. I just began to use my upper and lower body simultaneously as I swam. I quickly caught up to him and passed him. I only went far enough that he would be swimming right off of my heels as we went up and down the pool together. We swam like that for about a half-mile before he stopped. That's right. Catch your breath. I kept swimming. I thought our little competition was over. I was wrong.

As I reached the opposite end of the pool and came up for air I saw that he was waiting for me to reach the end so we could swim against each other going opposite directions in the pool. That little bastard, I thought. So we danced our little dance. At this point I was content to keep a steady pace and match his speed. Swimming long distances is so much easier when you get into a rhythmic groove. Every once in a while he would stop as I swam another lap before he continued to swim against me.

After I had swimming for about 1 1/2 miles he stopped and it looked as if he had left the pool for a second. I was just patting myself on the back mentally when I realized he was putting on swim paddles and a floaty between his legs. They are used as training devices that aid in developing your swimming technique, but they also act as aids. They make swimming further and faster much less difficult. A normal person would have conceded that the competition was over and that I could go back to swimming at my original pace. If I were a normal person I would agree.

This time he waited until I pulled up alongside him to start swimming again. Of course. He wanted to beat me even if he was getting help. I stayed with him the first lap but he was starting to pull away...and then I started swimming.

“You can't just beat [someone], you have to leave a lasting impression in their minds so they never want to see you again.” - Mia Hamm

Any time I train, whether it's in the pool or on the road, I focus on breathing. Over the past two years I have been able to train my body to sustain prolonged levels of low-intensity exercising by maintaining a low heart rate. Usually when resting I breath four times a minute, three if I'm conscious of it and twice per minute if I am focusing on breathing exercises. Most swimmers breath every two strokes when racing. I train by breathing on every fourth stroke. Even when swimming 2 1/2 miles during my IronMan competitions I'll swim this way to regulate my heart rate. This also gives me the advantage of being able to significantly increase my speed by taking in more oxygen. So as the other swimmer started to pull away I began breathing on every third stroke and increase my pace. Not to match his speed, but to surpass it.

I pulled away from him again until we were on opposite ends of the pool again and then I just kept my pace to his. He finally stopped trying to race me and just swam for whatever his original purpose was, and I slowed my own heart rate by returning to my normal breathing pattern. Eventually, he stopped all together and left the pool. I cackled hysterically. Under water. It was glorious.

"Live daringly, boldly, fearlessly. Taste the relish to be found in competition -- in having put forth the best within you." - Henry J. Kaiser

I finished up my swim with a half mile cool down before getting out of the pool. All told, I swam about 2 1/2 miles consecutively and I felt great. The best part was that my muscles and my knee had felt relatively well throughout the entire swim. It was rewarding to me to have gone through so much therapy and working so diligently to work my way back and to have that pay off is a great feeling.

"The ultimate victory in competition is derived from the inner satisfaction of knowing that you have done your best and that you have gotten the most out of what you had to give." - Howard Cosell

Competition is the whetstone of talent. Even when training by alone I will always challenge myself or set goals for me to complete along the way. The only way to get better is to push yourself to become better. I have learned so much about myself and have accomplished so much recently. I will continue to learn from my mistakes and grow through experience, and I will never back down from a fight. It's in my nature.

The Foreshadowing of Shadows...

Sunday, February 15, 2009 at 8:43pm

Inspiration comes in many forms. When we become inspired there is an up-swell of emotion deep within our chests begging for release. It is a force of artistic expression that each of us manifest in our own unique way. Some of us will paint or draw. Others will sing or take up an instrument. I write.

I also listen. I hear so many of my friends talk about their relationships, or lack thereof, and reflect on the irony of it all. Mind you, the following generalization is based on a small sampling of a relatively few people I know. I have many friends who are in or out of relationships that this would not apply to. I listen to good people lament about the bad relationships they are in, or hear the bitter undertone of celebrating yet another day reminding them of the lonely path they walk. I hear the great stories of romantic innovation that some couples enjoy and the more commercialized version of happiness coming from store-bought gifts. I hear of the rejections, and can feel the floor fall from beneath them as their emotions are lost in new-found despair.

Yet through it all there is one thing that drowns out all of the other sounds combined: silence. The silence of unspoken feeling; of fear that paralyzes nerves and freezes action. How many young men and women will pass each other by and share a moment in a more-than casual glance only to have it be rendered meaningless through inaction. How much of life is lost in the waiting of things to happen I wonder. I tell you now that your life is running out! It is ending one moment at a time, and it is precisely because of that finality that each moment is so precious! Seize it! Grab hold of your life through action and shed the fears that cast doubt into your heart.

Last year I wrote a small poem to the Valentine I had not yet met. Apparently, I still have some searching to do, but every journey has its end though the road does not. The road goes ever on and on, and to each we must walk until we find what we seek, or tire of the search. Perhaps that is, in part, why I run. Yet there is strength left in these friends of mine who never fail in time of need. So my road will go on, and I leave you all with this small excerpt from one of my stories for you to consider. Thank you.

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Working by candlelight, Kaitza carefully brushed at the edge of the canvas parchment with the charcoal he had found. The images from his dream burned inside his skull, but he had to be sure. The Winter Army was currently marching east in pursuit of the remnants of a Kolgeri reconnaissance that had set fire to a cluster of villages in Denai provinvce. The border-forts were in complete disarray and the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. A razor-edged knife.

Sighing in disgust, Kaitza tried again to force the images from his mind, but it was no use. His eyes stared unfocused into the flame of the candle as the dream played out once more in his mind's eye...

The Feasting Hall illuminated by scores of ensconced torches along the walls. The flames flickering as they cast countless shadows across the chamber while servants scurried along neatly rowed tables to ensure the guests were well-supplied with wine and mead. Various lords of the land were mingling with nobles of the Court over the din of the music in the background.

Near the far-end of the room was a dais where stood an elongated table made of rich oak inlaid with gold filament. The Royal Standard rolled off either end of the table; an additional symbol of the guests dining at the City Palace in Chumois. As if any more were needed. The royal family sat at the center of the table wearing rich fabrics of gold-and-green hues. Everything seemed as it should until a number of shadows danced awkwardly in and out of the torch-light. No, not shadows. Shadows.

Within moments they had reached the head of the dais. The royal detachment at base of the steps stood diligently at their posts, but did not know what to look for. The screams got their attention. Seconds dragged on in what seemed like hours as the next few events unfolded. The room was in chaos. Blood dripped along the expensive cloth of the table; the rich red contrasting sharply with the royal colors. And a woman's face shone with fear as the Unseen came to claim her soul.

As her screams faded from his mind, Kaitza shuddered as he returned to the present moment. There was no use denying it. Graidon had to be told. But will he believe a dream? Kaitza wondered. Everything in the dream had been vague, as if it were veiled in mist. Yet for some reason the walls illuminated by the torches seemed as real to him as the shadows flickering inside his own tent. The Shadows. Shadows in Chumois. The merest possibility sent Kaitza's head spinning. It made sense, but it didn't add up.

"Better to leave business to your betters," his father had told him years ago. Politics was far above his reach and understanding. Yet the man he had sworn his loyalty to was at the center of a storm where politics was but one reason for the troubles now facing the entire nation. "Better to leave business to your betters, but when it's raining arrows all around you take shelter under a tree even if it brings you closer to the lightning." His father again. Katiza had always hated the sayings his father recited every day plying the Trade in the cities. Yet they made sense. Damn me to Shadow but they do make sense.

Looking down at the parchment Kaitza stood up in surprise. It was finished. It was finished, and yet he stood there gazing down at the rendition of the woman's face in his dreams. Aside from the walls only two other things had stood out clearly in the dream: the royal symbol and the woman's face. It had to be the princess, and if it was real...if it was real, then war with the Kolgeri would be the least of our troubles.

At long last Kaitza put down the piece of charcoal and leaned back to take in the sketch on the now-sooty canvas.



It's her. There's no doubt, but how? The unanswered question worried him almost as much as the brooding possibilities that were forming in his quickening mind.

Moving quickly, Kaitza grabbed his cloak and hurried from the tent. The Lord-Captain needed to hear of this immediately. Somehow, the royal family was in danger and Elloren was at the heart of it.

The Limits of Pain

Wednesday, February 11, 2009 at 11:51pm

Many of us like to think of things lasting eternally, but it is one of the very rare universal principles of life that everything changes. From socks to soul mates; prices to personalities, it is inevitable that life itself will change around us even as you yourself are changing. We all make plans. Well if you ever want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans about life. Change. And so we look to those special moments in our lives:

"All of life can be broken down into moments of transition or moments of revelation...this has the feeling of both. There is a greater darkness than the one we fight. It is the darkness of the soul that has lost its way. The war we fight is not against powers and principalities, it is against chaos and despair. Greater than the death of flesh is the death of hope; the death of dreams. Against this peril we can never surrender. The future is all around us waiting in moments of transition to be born in moments of revelation . No one knows the shape of that future or where it will take us. We know only that it is always born, in pain." - J. Michael Straczynski

One thing that everyone carries with them at all times is pain. We tend to define it in one of two ways: physical or emotional. Pain in our legs from a long day of walking, running, working, etc. Pain in our head from the long hours we keep, the drugs we use, or from the lack of proper rest and care. Pain in our heart. The pain that hurts the most. The pain that, more than anything else, we fear. This fear is what forces most of us to find some way to escape reality. Escape the truth that we are alone, or that we are scared, or that we will have to risk being hurt in order to achieve that level of trust and happiness we so desire.

I have wanted so much to help others in my life. Help them to improve their lives. Help them to develop their own special talents in life. Help them to become something better than they are. Not for some expectation of recognition or reward. For no other reason than because that is one of my special talents: to serve. To inspire.

"To strive, to seek, to find...and not to yield." - Lord Alfred Tennyson.

My message is not for everyone, nor do I hope to change the world. Yet change the world I shall: one life at a time. For those people I cherish in my life. For those people I brush against for a precious moment as the streams of our lives touch briefly for an instant. I am here for those who seek it, and, just as importantly, for those who are willing to take upon the burden and responsibility associated with my message.

For each of us there is a limit to what we can bear. I continue to push the limits of my pain threshold through feats of physical endurance that I cannot even comprehend afterward. I will continue to do so both so that I may continue to inspire others to achieve greatness in their own lives and, for me personally to continue to better myself as I try to walk the Path I have chosen for my life. Harder for me has been trying to deal with the pain of the heart as others expose their wounded souls to me. It is a hard thing to listen to someone tell you of their innermost fears and pains without you yourself becoming submerged in the depths of their despair.

And so we reach our limits to what we can take in. Most of the time we absorb the pain of others without even realizing that our own emotional balance has been disturbed. Then later we are surprised, or worse, oblivious, when we lash out at our loved ones snapping at someone over an innocent comment or mistake. It is of paramount importance that we be content with ourselves and our inner state of being before attempting to take in the pain of others. I'm not talking about listening to someone vent as you nod and make sympathetic noises at all the right times. I am talking about opening your heart to absorb their pain and take the burden away from them in order to begin the healing process. Depending on the person and the severity of the damage this journey can take a very long time to traverse.

Thus I find myself needing to apologize to those I have not been able to help. Despite my efforts there are limits to what I can absorb without losing the empathy and focus required to be of any service. Know that I do not turn away from you out of judgment, disinterest or selfishness. I will continue to better myself so that I may in turn better serve others. The limits of pain are real for each of us, and they are something we all have to come to terms with each in our way.

I will say that the power to heal resides solely within yourself. You do not need a doctor, therapist, instructor or expert. They may act as conduit to guide you, but the choice forever lies within you. Make no mistake: the choice is simple. You either will, or you will not. Know that whatever decision you make is yours, and yours alone. Do not try and justify your actions as a victim. Do not try to escape from your responsibility. You are in control of your own life. Never delude yourself into thinking there is no choice. It will not be easy. Nothing worth having in life ever is. You can make the decision to change your life. Here. Now. You have the opportunity to choose: become something greater and nobler and more difficult than you have been before. It is in these moments of clarity in life that greatness is achieved. Live your life.