SOMETHING TO PROVE?

I was a pretty scrawny kid. On outward appearance I could not possibly be a very strong athlete, except for the fact that before adolescence kicked in fully, I was 75% legs. yup, since I was 12, I have been a 31 inch inseam, my legs grew first, and I had the torso of a 3 year old.

The advantages to this freakish body, was that I was super light. On my first cross country run, I came 5th or something like that in my class. My lungs were burning, but as I hunched over, I realised that I could be pretty good at this.

So with no one's encouragement, or even sense of competition, and with no one really knowing, I would awake at first light, leave the front door unlocked, and run for 30 minutes, and sneak back in before breakfast, each day, for months.

In the ensuing years I became a very proficient cross country and middle distance runner. Represented the school and went to track meets.

Then I met this girl on the track team. She was a very fast 200m runner. She was dating this guy who was a fast 50m butterfly swimmer....

Now, suffice it to say that distance running and sprint swimming require some very different skills.

In Phys-Ed, though I was a pretty good swimmer, trying to do 50m of butterfly, all flailing arms, and gulping water, was a bit of an embarrassment.

Now, there wasn't a guarantee that whoever was the fastest under 15 50m butterfly swimmer was going to win the heart of this 200m sprinter, but hey, I was young and dumb and it seemed to make sense.

So.....at first light, I snuck out, and swam. The 50 m butterfly. Perfected my dolphin kick. Got the sweeping arms going. Breathed every other stroke. Timed the final stretch to the wall.

It was a cold November day. The day of the swim meet. The sprinter was there. The 50m butterfly guy, who I will call the Albatross was there. He was about a foot taller than me and had crazy long arms. We both made it into through the heats, the quarters, the semis. He was in lane 4, and I in lane 8 of the finals. I won. I dated the girl. I became part of the swim team for the next few years. My specialty: the 50m butterfly.

Two of my main high school athletic accomplishments, running and swimming.

One spurred on by some strange dysfunctional growth proportion thing, and some surprisingly singular drive to get better at something you're naturally OK at.

The other, by the seemingly impossible task of being the best at something you were the worst at, motivated by the desire to date a 200m sprinter.

Running. I had nothing to prove. Except to myself. I wasn't really even fussed about the competitive element, as I am not naturally a competitive person.

Swimming. I had everything to prove. To win the girl. To show her that there was something spectacularly romantic about a guy who would train daily, cold and alone, to win her heart through besting her boyfriend in a swimming race. So misguided, but ultimately successful.

No one knew that there were such different motivating factors to what seemed to others, as my natural aptitude in becoming really good at swimming and running. Only I did. And maybe my bemused PE teacher, who lost a distance runner and gained a sprint swimmer.

This is perhaps the most long winded prelude to the point of my blog today. What drives you? Motivates you? If you seek success, why do you seek it? Do you have something to prove? Do you do it for your own sense of accomplishment, or are you driven by the approval or recognition by others?

I'm constantly surprised by stories of people who are driven by things like: being called a failure by their father, decide to "show him", and become wildly successful, or accomplish incredible feats.

Or hypercompetitive people, who just want to be stronger, faster, better. Bigger house, nicer car, hotter spouse. A life in context, rather than a life in and of itself.

Do you have something to prove? Has a past hurt fueled your pursuits? Are you disproving the doubts of others in achieving greatness in something?

Or are you at peace with who you are?

FRIENDS BY CHOICE, NOT BY CHANCE

School. Neighbourhood. Workplace. Sports. You meet people. You become friends.

Tennis buddies, poker buddies. Friends you do things with.

People you eat together with, live together with.

Perhaps first by chance, but ultimately by choice.

When life changes, geographic distance come into play. Those friendships are tested. Then you know who are your friends by choice, and who you choose to be friend of.

Belonging

I don't really remember when I got switched on to this, but I'm convinced that belonging and significance is, outside from the great shortage of love in the world, what global society lacks the most, and what we hunger for, in our core.

So let's talk about belonging. My wife was telling about someone she knows, who was adopted, and who was then "abandoned" later in life, when a birth child came a long. I also know someone, whose parents adopted and fostered dozens of children, some from the far corners of the world. The heartbreaking story is that some of these children, some that were saved from certain death, are now turning their backs on the people who have loved them and nurtured them.

These are difficult stories to hear, absorb and process.

I am eternally grateful that I belong to my birth family, and now my own family. I am someone who was, since childhood, was looking for a lifetime companion, and was fortunate enough to find one. I belong to her, and she to me. My children belong to me, and me to them. Its such a symbiotic thing. Not co-dependence. Just being. Together. Individuals. But together.

We long to belong.