Bury Me In Georgia…
Won’t you tell me that you need me cause lately I’ve been needing someone to remind me that I’m worth more than just an evening. Running is a relationship that faces much turmoil and when one veers off path somehow a higher power presents opportunities in disguise as a beacon of inspiration.
My favorite movie scene is a two-minute clip from the film Money Ball when an Analytic Intern for the Oakland Athletics presents a thirty second scouting clip to the General Manager of the Athletics’ organization after their final loss of the season. The clip poetically presents a romantic metaphor of the team and its success accomplished after buying into the culture of simply committing just to get on base. In the clip a batter who is afraid to run to second base because his slow speed hits a towering fly ball to deep center field. As he dashes out of the box and approaches first base, he decides to do what he never does… he commits… takes off for second base. Rounding first base his biggest fears are exposed. He falls. Embarrassed and red faced he stands up only to realize he hit the ball twenty feet over the fence, he hit a home run.
Commitment is defined as a pledge to fulfill an action in the future. Committing to run a race. Committing to crew for some friends. Committing to a lead a project at work. Commitment is often confused with singular moments in our lives. The willfulness to commit needs to be viewed through the lens of growth as an action of life that is an ongoing segment of the running process. The front row seat to the actions I viewed in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Georgia (Cruel Jewel) and out there at Frozen Head this past weekend were moments given to me by a special group of people to remind me that I always have room to learn and grow as an individual.
As the miles were chipped away and Craig, who I met at morning registration, ripped from aid station to aid station at Cruel Jewel, I could feel the forest communicating to me through the pines. The calming winds spoke words of opportunity and as my brain translated the messages, my heart knew I couldn’t resist experiencing what was about to unfold in the dark. On a regular basis we unconsciously ignore what happens in the dark. Our world has magnified the imagine of happiness by means of only broadcasting the positivity and successes of our journeys. What happens in the bright lights is much more glamorous and we have been suppressed from the mere importance of falling flat on our faces. Blowing up during workouts, hours of PT, hours of spread sheet work all happen in the dark and for no one to see. Understanding the lessons learned from moments in the dark is how we learn from our past mistakes and grow to become better people.
Little did Craig know as we left out on our journey, I made a commitment for the both of us. Craig was not going to fall victim to the dark on my watch. We were going to shine brighter when no one was watching and not a sole was going to pass us in the night. As we patiently rolled up and down mountains passing other runners and chasing the sunrise, Craig was able to non-verbally communicate to me through a mere smile over his shoulder that he knew the plan and he was committed. As we ripped into my drop off point, after passing six other runners, I realized that Craig didn’t need me out there that night, I needed him. His action to accept my presence as a pacer on part of his 100-mile journey reminded me of the importance of committing to the running community not for a singular moment but for a lifetime.
Random Forest Runner’s cryptic messages are often hard to crack. He recently wrote of his own BCL goals becoming stale and how my external actions reignited the passion to push his limits out there on the loop. Over the past two to three weeks my relationship with Frozen Head had also become stale. I was lost trying to find the why for being out there. As Nicole and I reached garden spot, during her BCL effort, I briefly stated, “Sub five is in the bag.” Little did she know based on the split times note card, “I lost”, I knew we were on pace to run 4:45. Moments after muttering, “We are going to break 5”, Nicole laid the cairns to guide me back to find my why. Boldly and confidentially, she said “No we are going to break 4:40”. Nicole was committed from the first steps away from the park sign. Nicole and John were reminding me of my commitment to the park. The reason I exist out there is to play a small role in inspiring other to do things they believe are not possible, not just to break time goals. Just another small reminder presented to me in the form of commitment to the process.
My appreciation for these efforts run deeper than your times that were marked in the result columns. The home runs that were hit this past weekend hide in the lessons that were bestowed upon me. Being better people then runners is what these individuals are, and I am committed to following in your footsteps.
- Joe Jude