NaFinWIPsMo

What's that mean? National Finish WIPs Month, though I suppose we ought to call it International. ;)

Some friends of mine are participating in NaNoWriMo this month. I'll admit I have aspirations of one day writing a novel, but that day isn't any time soon. I do, however, have a fanfic I'd love to see finished before the year is out. So some other friends and I are piggy-backing off NaNoWriMo and creating (Inter)National Finish WIPs Month.

I hereby commit to (trying like hell) finishing my current WIP this month, November of 2005. As it stands now, I've got just over 50,000 words. I'd say it's about 2/3rds done. So... wish me luck. And feel free to nag. ;)

There's Just Something About Athletics

I started playing softball at the tender age of nine, and at that point I was oblivious to the "something". I simply enjoyed playing - even though I wasn't all that great at it. Maybe that was my first hint.

My second year playing, I was voted as one of the best 12 players in my age division, which essentially meant I had made the All-Star team. After weeks and weeks of long, grueling, HOT (this is Arizona in the summer 100F (38C) degree weather ;)) practices ... we won the District Tournament. That was the first time I got a real good look at what that "something" was.

There's a great feeling that goes along with being part of a team, especially as you realize you're more like family than anything else. Team cohesion doesn't happen all the time, but when it does, it's a great feeling. You play together like a well-oiled machine, anticipating each other's moves and trusting that everyone's doing their part.

It's what makes that "something" just that much better. It's the welling up of pride and pure happiness when you've just won the District Tournament. It's the feeling of knowing you're crying as a team, not alone, when you lose that last game in the National Tournament.

I played in the same softball league for six more years after that National All-Star Tournament in 1990. I made the All-Star team five more times, making it to Nationals in California twice more.

We never did win a National Tournament, my teammates - my family - and I, but the feeling I get when I think about the best years of my life... well, it's really something special.

The last time I felt that "something" was this past summer in Nice. The Ironman Triathlon. I could only dream about accomplishing such a feat, but my friend's brother, Geo, did more than dream. He finished. Twelve and a half hours in the worst heat Nice had had in a while.

The opening ceremonies were incredible, or, rather, the charged energy in the atmosphere was tangible. Maybe it was a bit of nostalgia... okay, a lot of nostalgia for the "something" I hadn't experienced in almost a decade, but I cried. And I tried my best not to cry harder when they started playing those songs. The athlete songs. Queen - We Are The Champions. Survivor - Eye of the Tiger. The songs from my youth that remind me of the time when *I* was an athlete.

Throughout the day, my friend's family and I were Geo's support team, meeting him a points along the way and screaming "You can do it!" at the top of our lungs. That in itself was... inspiring, almost. There was just something about witnessing the pinnacle of athletics and the dedication and heart I could feel permeating the air.

It's hard to describe the raw emotion I was feeling as I watched the first man cross the finish line. The first woman. The man carrying his daughter with him the last 10 yards of the race because it was Father's Day. Geo still wearing a smile, but tired as all hell.

There's just something about athletics, a feeling you can only know if you've experienced it. Maybe it ties us athletes all together, active and not, so that even if it's been too long, we can still feel that something. Incredible.

It's Gonna Happen On a Tuesday

You know those little things only your family knows? The inside jokes, the little quirks? Well, in our family, Tuesday was always a special day. For absolutely no reason in particular, but that was the point.

Dad, when do I get my allowance?
Tuesday.

Dad, when are we going to Disneyland?
Tuesday.

Dad, when are you going to buy me a car?
Tuesday.

This ensured that Dad always had an answer for everything. Dads are supposed to know it all. So what happened if Tuesday just didn't answer the question? Well, Dad had a few more stock answers for things.

Dad, how much money do I owe you again?
A million dollars.

Dad, how much longer is it going to take to get there?
Two minutes.

I could probably ask Dad when I'm supposed to be happy - he does know everything, after all - but I already know the answer.

It's gonna happen on a Tuesday.