So what if death awaits?
Does it matter what kind? Or – does it matter what the intent was, leading up to it?
A recent conversation with a very close, and well-meaning, friend has got me thinking quite a bit. Well-meaning because she, very caringly, said that, despite the admiration she has for the ambitions and standards I uphold for myself, she’s worried that – in her words – I might “lose my marbles someday”.
Jokingly, I replied, that then she’d at least have a funny story to tell one day, about the before and after.
Little did she know that, some weeks ago, I wrote something like the following in an entry:
“Today I feel like I might slowly be losing my mind to the process. That is fine. The ‘rules’ to the limits of ambitions, like so many, are an arbitrary construct.”
So, maybe that is what the road eventually leads to. I don’t know.
That sort of foresight, nobody is granted. The pavement for that road hasn’t even been laid yet.
To some this sense of uncertainty can seem as so anxiety-inducing, that the sheer thought of such a journey must imply a warped perception of reality; which – in turn – must mean something negative.
Bear in mind, I have complete understanding for that point of view! Uncertainty equals certain stress and pain – of which the degree and extent is also unknown; alas, double-uncertainty.
But, then again, I ask: What happened to Magellan? What if Roger Bannister tore a hammy on the final 100m? What did Reinhold Messner think the day before the ascend commenced?
With these questions in mind, I wonder, who defines these, so called, “limits”?
And why conform to them?
A new season gleams upon the horizon.
‘06/’07 was the first season I’ve officially competed in organized ski racing. 20 years later, the lessons that we get to learn, as the winds bring us back to the start, seem to expand. New challenges await. New questions arise, while answers to some old ones still seem to be written.
The work we get to put in, collectively, and aim towards something bigger, together is a privilege that carries the duty of becoming obsessed; maybe even losing it a little bit.
For many years I’ve been thinking that I’ve paid the price that was necessary, and expected something in return, because of that. How can one expect something, when one doesn’t even know what’s coming? That is a logical fallacy.
At this stage I’m beginning to realize that, while there was a price to be paid back then, there still is today, and it keeps increasing. However, I’ve learned from past mistakes to be discouraged, saddened, or angered by this realization. Ultimately, it is good.
No, ultimately, it just is. It’s simple: the higher the price, the less people are willing or able to pay for it.
Enough with the economics, though.
Tomorrow, we get to do this all again. The cold, windy, and snowy mornings. The frozen toes. The fine-tuning of the equipment. The mental breakdowns. The tension of a race day. The quiet of a dark, lonely mornings of training somewhere where no one goes. The hours spent analyzing videos. The frustrations after a “bad” day.
And the list goes on…
One might read that and think “Then why even do it?”, and the answer lies – exactly – in the paragraph above.
Magellan died during the Spanish expedition. “Killed in battle”, it says.
So, what if the attempt or the dream is that big that death arrives first? Well, only one way to find out. Die on the road, if you have to. You’ll still have walked further than the one standing still.
Truly grateful to still be here.
The search for pieces in this never-ending puzzle continues.
There is no normalcy.
Acceptance of the obsession is where peace is found.
If someone isn’t willing to go that far – good, more for you.
20 years and counting. Let the games begin.