November
2, 2015
Greetings
from where I climb,
“It's the sides
of the mountain that sustain life, not the top.” Robert Pirsig
In
the book ‘Again to Carthage’ there is a tiny vignette that you might miss if
you got swept up in the main story line.
It is a story the author tells of the great alpinists.
As
children they were surrounded by unattainable peaks. Day by day they explored the valleys and
crevasses, pushing further from where they were comfortable. They grew stronger and more skilled and time
passed and the mountains came to them. Before
long they could stand in their village and look in all directions and not find
a climb they could not conquer.
And
time passed and the mountains moved away again.
The climbers who survived found that the peaks grew taller and the
passages more difficult. The evolution
reversed itself. John Parker says; ‘You
could see them, the aged former heroes sitting sadly in the village square,
turning full circle to gaze at a frozen world once again inaccessible to them.’
There
was something in the story that drew me back a few times, sifting for what
resonated with me. What I find is
this. The sadness does not come in
seeing the summits taunting the climbers, at either end of their lives. The sadness is in that the day when every day
looks like the day before, when there are no challenges left, when the peaks
inspire nothing but ennui.
In
a few days I will approach another challenge, one that I have reached for many times. I have run marathons for twenty seven years and
in that time I have learned a great deal about what to expect. Which is: you can expect everything. I know that on this stage there is potential
for crushing defeat and unshakable agony, and second chances, and dizzying
victory, and in all of that there is joy.
From
the first time in New York City, to the stunning heat of Miami, to the brittle
cold in Columbus, and the leg numbing hills in Boston, I bring all of this with
me this week. It is not about reliving
anything, or capturing other days. For
me it is bringing the best of what I have discovered in me, and searching for
what still waits to be uncovered.
In
every run there is the potential for pain and humor and song and loneliness and
friendship and silliness and deep philosophical thought. There is a challenge. I have always wanted to run faster, but now
the mountains move, and so I look at them differently. I run to battle the clock, which in a way
seeks the best in me, but now there is something more.
Because
amidst the challenge there is also joy. Like
those moments, once in a while, that you find yourself in a place where you
feel you can run forever. That joy does
not fade with time and is not diluted by what speed you run. There is joy in finishing, in the comradery,
in the music, in the cheering crowd.
There is joy in an accumulation of effort that results in achieving the
peak you strive for.
None
of this is permanent. It is there for us
to find in the foothills and the mountain top experiences, but we have to seek
it out.
Yesterday
I ran out into the open land and felt the sun come up behind me, and the wind
on me and the road under me. When I
turned east again, and opened up my stride, head back, galloping toward home,
and felt the same limitless possibility in my legs that resonated from three
decades ago. And I laughed out loud and
whooped as if I had just opened the gift I wished for. Every day that I can feel that alive I will claim
as my own. And so I run.
On
Saturday I will push myself to capture a time, but that will be just part of
the arc of the marathon. The rest waits
to be discovered. It is an adventure
that often exacts a price, but one that I am willing to pay.
“There is
nothing more brief than a laurel. Victory is of the moment. It must be followed
by another victory and then another. I have to run just to stay in place.
Excellence is not something attained and put in a trophy case. It is not sought
after, achieved and, thereafter, a steady state. It is a momentary phenomenon,
a rare conjunction of body, mind, and spirit at one's peak. Should I come to
that peak I cannot stay there. I must start each day at the bottom and climb to
the top. And then beyond that peak to another and yet another.” George Sheehan
Hope
this finds you heroic,
David
Copyright
© 2015 David Smith
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