Life on the edge

My parents never held me back, if anything they were the ones pushing me off. I was BMX racing a few months after my training wheels came off my bike. I am pretty sure I was in some sort of organized sports from the beginning. When I had a hard week at school my dad sat with me in class. He drove me and ran with me for the first month of high school cross country running. My mom stayed at home in the afternoons and would fix a snack. She would listen to me, when I needed it most. When I struggled in math my junior year she contacted my teacher and arranged for tutoring. There were never rewards for excellence in my family. It was just expected or if anything the norm. Having an older sister who dominated the academic front and a father whose middle name might as well be 'smart.' I tried to find my own in other places. Skateboarding and snowboarding eventually with a fight won over team sports, but my parents still continued to provide me with the means to succeed. Skateboard deck after skateboard deck, season pass after season pass, they still pushed me to be my best.

When I began to realize I could get into trouble I quickly realized that I could do better. My parents gave me that drive, a hope, the knowledge that 'I can.' It's interesting really. I never became a professional BMX racer, soccer player, runner, scholar, snowboarder, or skateboarder. Yes I won a few races, scored a goal, beat my best time again and again, graduate from college, and can hold my own on a skateboard. Was that why they pushed me? For a few achievements? As I train for my next benchmark; a sprint distance triathlon. I have began to realize what my parents were doing when I was four, ten, and sixteen. They instilled a sense, more like a taste of what its like to push a little harder, to go that extra mile, and to continue on when it hurts the most.

Thanks Dad. Thanks Mom.

Accept,
John

...live life on the edge (note: that is a picture of me on the edge of the Grand Canyon)