When you run, there's a place between gasping for air and exhilaration that most don't find. As a natural sprinter, I know that the short burst of giving your best for a few fleeting seconds has it's merit. As a long distance runner/biker though, I fail. My breath doesn't seem to last, hence many of my recreational choices have been sprint oriented.

As a baseball player, I achieved some succces in high school as a defender and a base stealer. When the team needed an exta base, I seemed to be able to get it (unless an evil lefthander was on the mound). When the team needed someone to track that line drive in the gap, I was able to haul it down, and keep the lead runner from advancing... I loved being able to, in that critical moment, help...

Looking back now though, I wish I'd been able to provide a steadier, long distance contribution. I was a baseball stud when I was 13-14 years old. Faster, bigger than most, with an easy swing, and even with a bit more power than most... By the time I was 15-18, I was hanging onto the game by my fingernails. A little too slow on the swing, too easily fooled by the curve ball, a bit too flighty to be truly focused on being an athlete, and certainly the size advantage had long disappeared. While I loved watching my friends take second in State in my junior year of high school, it cut to the quick to know that not so long before that I'd been their equal, a team leader, and shared their success.

These failings, these deficiencies are tantamount to who I am as an adult. My mind's eye always held the moment of victory true and to the center. The reality of those years is that I wasn't quite good enough to make a difference, an endurance-type of effort..

Annie & me, back when I had hair.

As men, we figure our place in the pecking order with some trepidation. Knowing how we stack up is key to our place in business, career, recreation, and eventually even how we sleep at night. Those who cannot find the niche often express that in ways that are less than pleasant. Ultimately, men need to feel we have a niche in which to be a contributor, a leader, a winner.

There are few moments, as an adult that allow you a moment of true introspection. When I'm walking with my dog, when she can be free in the moment experiencing the world around her, when I can simply be present to experience that joy-- these are moments I revel in. These are the moments I can be who I am despite all my failings and all my unrealized potential. These are the moments I can connect with those possibilities and potential a certain young man felt so palpably many years ago.

Note: This is a favorite song of mine from John Hiatt, a familiar entrant to this occasional blog.