I have raised him from a pup
He can stand up on his hind legs
If you hold his front legs up
(If you hold his front legs up)
Little did I realize when I learned that song as a kid (in Boy Scout chorale of all things - my merit badges were in alto soloing and beadwork - could my childhood have been any gayer?) that it was actually a paean of pride in domestic mediocrity, the pleasure the child singing takes in his Woebegone dog's ability to perform a minor feat provided it has some assistance.
It's an entirely natural inclination to take pride in the things with which one identifies, but it's when you start to conceive of a world around you and understand your limitations with respect to that world that you grow out of childhood and become an adult. It's not that the limitations are a bad thing, but rather a mature understanding of who you are. For example, when Bruce Wayne says that Batman has no limitations, he's both right and wrong - the persona of Batman is what allows Bruce to extend beyond himself and perform heroic acts, but he himself as Bruce Wayne is the one acting as Batman, and as such it would be healthier for him to begin to understand those limits and thus become a mature superhero (c.f. Aquaman in retirement) (okay, I made that one up. c.f. the Green Lantern in retirement, or perhaps Middle-Aged Man) (wow, circa 90's Mike Myers, in a tip of the bruque to all you hosers out there) (eh).
The point being that I am under no illusions that I could ever be the fastest and win a race, like the L.A. Marathon. I mean, there's the educator in me who wants to tell everyone that they can do whatever it is that they set their minds on, sky's the limit etc. etc., but come on, there's no way I'm ever going to be the first one to break the tape at one of these things, and part of the point of the above Batman digression is that I don't have to be. There's a whole lotta talk about how in a race your only true opponent is yourself, but I think of that as a bunch of new age nonsense, blah blah blah, 'cause I mean, come on, how do you beat yourself, with a mirror? Punching yourself in the face? Come on! To me, the whole challenge has been just to finish, to see how far I can actually run, how long I can keep putting one Nike in front of the other, how far I can challenge myself to keep going (oh - I get that whole "your only opponent is yourself" thing now) despite the desire to stop, sit down and eat a burrito instead.
The point for me is to see how far I can run, the speed thing really is secondary (perhaps I can think of these distances in terms of how much chocolate milk I get to drink - I could say how many Chocolate Milk Equivalents I ran today) since I know I'm not winning. Which makes me wonder about the giving out of medals to all finishers of marathons. On the one hand, I get it, just finishing makes you a winner and all, but on the other hand, isn't that kinda saying we're all above average - essentially, that we can stand up on our hind legs provided someone holds our front legs up? 'Cuz after all, the point, and perhaps the new mantra, is just finish.
Two Dam Hilly
10.14 mi. 1 hr:31 min:02 sec. 8:58 pace.
No comments:
Post a Comment