The Brick Road

Odgen Ave knows me well.

     Yesterday was one of those exceptional days where I felt good, I had lots of time on my hands, and there was no good sporting event on t.v. and so I did one of my favorite things to do, I took a nine mile walk.  Now I know how ludicrous that probably sounds that I enjoy spending 3 hours walking, but believe it or not, it's true.  I have become a walker.  Growing up I couldn't think of anything more ridiculous.  I can remember once when my car wasn't running that my dad suggested that I walk to school.  It would have been about a mile and a half walk and he could have more easily suggested that I fly to the moon.  Walking back then was the last thing that I would even consider.  Even when I got older and I needed some type of physical activity I played basketball, tennis, racquetball, golf, 16 inch softball (a Chicago thing), Taekwondo, anything that didn't involve the boring non-competitive repetitiousness of either running (for younger people) or the ultimate in old person exercise, walking.   So I have to ask myself what brought about this transformation from a die-hard win at all costs competitor to a laid back in for the serenity and cardio workout walker?  My answer to this question, like the answer to so many other questions in my life lately, is that I matured.

     When I make a statement like this it might seem that I am somehow condemning of or condescending toward the life that I previously lead that found me challenging anyone in any type of sports related activity, regardless of the pretty important fact concerning if I had any talent or previous experience in the exercise.  I used to be a real hard edge (notice my clever euphemistic wording) about sports.  I hated to lose much more than I loved to win.  And overall that lifestyle served me well.  I stayed in relatively good condition, it kept me social (something I struggle with when I have to be the initiator, I'd rather just play Sudoku), and it has always been the source of my "swag". I really cringe when I hear young parents debating the merits of sports for their kids.  It's the greatest experience that they can give to their children, but that is a topic for another day.  There is something innately hardwired into most people (guys anyway), that drives us to compete.  But in our society the competition isn't as primal as fighting for food or some woman that we might know, it's in some form of sport.  We have devised organized games that allow guys to use various sets of skills, physical prowess, and mental acuity to symbolically dominate another guy or groups of guys by besting them without actually harming them.  There is nothing as exhilarating as winning, just ask Charlie Sheen.  But there is also nothing more humbling than losing, especially when you've lost after performing at your best.  And humility is both virtuous and motivating.  There really is no shame in losing when "you've left it all on the field", but believe me it doesn't feel like there is no shame in it at that moment.  I can only speak with any authority for myself but I've tried harder to get better because of how it felt to lose than because of how it felt to win.  I don't think this plays the same if we are talking about competing in science projects or piano recitals.  It's not that those activities can't be competitive and fantastic learning experiences, but without the physicality aspect I don't think the win or loss reaches the inner soul of a guy.  And here is the key, you don't have to be good.  You just compete at a level that is appropriate with your skills.  Find someone a little better than you, someone a little worse, and someone at your level and go at it.

These were the "baddest" (80's vernacular meaning "the best") shoes around.

     But I don't really compete at anything much anymore.  Oh I have a couple of games of "Words with Friends" going all the time and occasionally I'll let a couple of friends drag me around a golf course, but no leagues, no standing tennis matches, my sparing gear is collecting dust in the basement, and I don't even own a pair of basketball shoes anymore (except for the ones that I saved from high school).  So what happened, did I just get too old to be competitive?  Did I lose my "man card"?  Actually it just stopped being important to me.  When I would win it would be good, but not really that much different from when I would lose.  And  it hit me, losing no longer motivated me to get better.  Once that happened competition for me was no longer  significant because I didn't feel the need to improve.  That doesn't mean that I was so good at anything there was no room for improvement, far from it.  It just meant that I was okay with where I was and what I had done and defeating someone else or feeling the sting of defeat had very little impact on me.  At that point competing lost all relevance and pretty much took the fun out of those activities for me.

     So now I walk.  And I love it.  At first I even tried to make that a competition by buying a pedometer and tracking my mileage over time and trying to go farther, faster.  But competing with myself doesn't really motivate me either so now I walk for the shear pleasure of walking.  Exercising improves your quality of life on so many levels; physically, mentally, and spiritually.  I listen to music or an audio book and for a few hours I just let my mind wonder while my feet are on auto pilot.  I do some of my best thinking when I am walking.  And my need to compete?  Well I compete vicariously through my son and he is twice the athlete I ever was.  (key music: The Circle of Life softly begins to play while this blog fads to black.)

My main man.