Every boy dreams of being/doing something heroic. No boy wants to pass the ball to the guy who makes the winning shot or to save the cat while the beautiful girl perishes in the disaster. Boys want to be soldiers, firefighters, and policemen; not lawyers, accountants, and teachers. But over time, something sucks out our willingness to charge hard after windmills. I cannot remember the the last time I slept on deck (the front hallway), harpoon (broom handle) at the ready, eager to climb the rigging (Timmy's jungle gym), to hunt whales (hula hoops), at first light (after breakfast). [One of my earliest boyhood memories.] As the years go by we seem to get weighed down and distracted by the cares and concerns of living adult lives that seem devoid of the heroic and overflowing with the ordinary.
William Wallace is credited with saying "All men die, few men truly live." So how does one truly live in the midst of regular life? After all, someone needs to be the lawyers, accountants, and teachers. Not everyone can be soldiers, firefighters, and policemen. So is truly living beyond the grasp of regular people? I don't believe so. Since most of us cannot just forget our responsibilities and run off to hunt "whales", truly living must take place in the midst of the regular responsibilities of adult life.
I think that this may be part of the attraction of bike racing--a chance to do something out of the ordinary in the midst of regular life. Perhaps not heroic, but at least out of the ordinary. When I am on the track or out on the road I feel like I am moving into a world that is more like "whaling" than like lawyering. To be sure, bike racing is a hobby. But then, so was hunting whales.
I do not hope to escape William Wallace's "all men die", but one way or the other I will truly live--at least in enough of life to cast an "heroic" hue to the ordinary.
Pressing On,
-Ken
The Persistent Journey -- toward authentic living in an inauthentic world
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