I Suck At Celebrating My Friend's Birthday

Today (well, technically yesterday since it is past midnight) is my friend's (Marc) birthday. Happy birthday Marc! I hope your day ended up better than you expected. Unfortunately, I suck at celebrating my friend's birthday.

I've known Marc for a long time. In fact, it's pretty much pure luck that we even became friends in the first place. It just so happened that we had mutual friends in common growing up. He thought I was the weird kid with the giggle (which I still am). I thought he was the weird band geek with the tuba. But luckily, it all worked out.

I'm glad it did because Marc is an exceptional friend. Of course, I'm not going to praise his selflessness when it comes to his friends or anything like that because I don't want to inflate his ego any more than I have to. Marc already thinks he's correct all the time as it is. Just kidding.

Needless to say, I have many memories of Marc while growing up. Probably one of most memorable ones for me was when we were running track together in high school. In fact, I have Marc to thank for getting me involved in the track event known as the hurdles.

Prior to running hurdles in track, I was simply the run-of-the-mill sprinter. Sure, I had speed, but sprinting was where all the able-bodies were. It was tough to stand out in the vast crowd unless you were blessed with wings on your feet. Enter: hurdles. Sure, anyone can run fast... but can they run fast and jump over things at the same time?

Anyway, Marc was already running hurdles for the team and he suggested I try it. At the time, Marc and a lone senior were the only ones running the hurdles on our team. I remember my first attempt at hurdles... THUD. My second and third attempts probably yielded the same results. THUD. THUD.

The problem was always my "trail leg". For anyone curious, the trail leg is the last leg that goes over the hurdle. My trail leg generally caught the top of the high hurdle. The end result would usually be painful. I have many scars on my knee to prove it. (The intermediate hurdles, where the hurdles are shorter but the amount of distance to run is longer, were much easier in comparison.)

It's amazing that I even ended up being fairly decent at running hurdles. Of course, it took a lot of hard work and determination on my part (and maybe some reckless abandon with my body) to turn around my ineptitude in jumping over the hurdles, but for the most part I did it.

That, however, is not the memory I have of Marc when it comes to running track. One of the main memories I have is during a meet we had at the track/football stadium in Quincy. Marc and I were running the intermediate hurdles, which cover the span of 330 meters. (In essence, we have to sprint 330 meters while jumping over hurdles along the way.) Because the track did not have many lanes, the event had to be split up in heats.

As I generally had faster times in the event, I was running in the first heat against a member from the other team. Marc was running in the next heat against another member from the other team. My heat went by without any fanfare. And then Marc's heat started.

I watched with excitement as Marc bolted out of the starting blocks. He was literally flying. He made it over the first hurdle. He made it over the second. To me, the race simply looked fast. A coach who was standing near me was looking at his stopwatch. At the halfway split, he turned to me and showed me the time. The time was very impressive... like record breaking impressive. (I think the coach may have even muttered something about how the pace was record breaking.)

Hoping Marc could break the record, I screamed and cheered him on. For me, it was simply exciting to watch. It looked like Marc was going to do it. All he had to do was clear the last and final hurdle.

Unfortunately, that last hurdle was his undoing. CRASH! Marc collided with the last hurdle and just wiped out on the track. The record that was within his grasp... gone. Needless to say, Marc was rather disheartened... first for wiping out... then probably for finding out that he was so close to setting a record.

I can imagine how frustrating that must feel. Yet despite it all, Marc dusted himself off and continued.

Sure, it's a bizarre memory to have about someone on his birthday. I think the reason why the thought of that particular race even came into my mind today is because I have been a little off kilter of late. My son's (Braden) birthday is tomorrow. Unfortunately, Braden passed away last year.

Anyway, the memory seemed like a metaphor to me. It's like... you're running as fast as you can... no direction or whatever in life... overcoming obstacles that arise here and there... and then suddenly BAM! Something hits you and you crash and fall. So then what is the only recourse left? Get up, dust yourself off, and continue running again.

Maybe that was too deep. What do you expect? It's the wee hours of night right now. Regardless, happy birthday again Marc. Hope you ended up having a great day!