ROAD TRIP!!!!!!! Yep, it was a Road Trip. The family and I went to Waxahachie to one of my favorite Highland Games, even though I can't throw, it's one of my favorite events. In the past it's been my first throw of the year. Last year, had I not gotten a return of the cancer and carved up like a cheap piece of beef, it would have been somewhere around my third of fourth game of the year. That's how badly I wanted to continues to throw, and improve myself, without loving my love of the game. Early on, I discovered that, "Yes! I can practice a lot and get WAY better!". It was true, I did start improving a lot, but the off side of that was what I suspected might happen. I got so mad at myself for not performing up to my own expectations that it started to not be fun to compete. I'd get up, head out for a game, and by the end of the day I hated the entire thing. Myself, the game, the AD, the equipment, the heat, the cold, what ever there was to hate, I was there. Then came an epiphany one night while I was talking to my Uncle Jack Daniel's, and it was a long talk, believe me, and thought, "Dammit, I was having so much fun, what was I doing different?"… "I was just throwing, that's what. And I was getting better without all the practice and self hate. I was enjoying the company of the folks I was competing with, that's what's different". I gave away nearly all my practice equipment, went to a couple of games, and a couple of PR in spite of not training. The most important thing? I got my love of the games and of the people who are all parts of the games. People I respect (in no order, so don't get all competitive here, he says with a chuckle and smile). Like Brittney Boswell, Terri Ventress, Mike Baab, Ed Cosner, Mark Cooper, Aaron Woods, Kim Dot… God, more names and people than I can list fairly. Mike Baab inspired me to stay in after cancer. He text me right after my first round in 2008, and basically said, "Stay with the games, it's good for you". Yeah yeah I thought, not right now they aren't. In 2009, 6 weeks out of my last radiation therapy, I went to the Games Mark Cooper put on at the Scarborough Renaissance Festival in Waxahachie Tx. I threw, no one expected me to throw, only that I'd show up. Mr. Cooper and his lovely wife Tamra had the entire group they are in at the Faire come over as my cheering section, named me Athlete of the Day, with Mike Baab giving me the medal, and had me fire off the cannon to close the day. They made my eyes leak.
If was there, at that moment, I decided that I had my old records, and everything would be a PRAC Personal Record After Cancer. I've had more fun than a man should be allowed. It was truly what I thought in the first place, "NEVER FUCKING QUIT" which was my mantra to begin with. The time between April 2009 November 7th, 2012 were some of the best times in my life. I'd always had more fun that almost anyone I know, but these were special days. I kicked cancer's ass. Alas it came back, and for now I'm holding it at bay, but it's killing me, fucking slowly it's killing my body, not what's me. Not my heart, spirit, or Amour De La Vie. Those things are mine, always have been, it can't take them from me.
Okay, that's the "Prequel" for this blog. Scarby is one of my Favorite games, so is the Texas Scottish Festival games put on by Aaron Woods and his lovely wife Tamyna. And add to those the McPherson Celtic Festival in McPherson KS, run by Dave Glasgow and his wife Gunner, and Larry and Terri Ventress, (Terri owns the world records in her age group in all the events she can in Heavy Athletics). I was only able to attend one of Mike Baabs games, but I had a blast there. His was going to be on my agenda in 2013. So was the Iron Thistle. Several games that I'd always wanted to throw in, but just couldn't get away to save my life. You all need to believe me when I say, it's not just the AD's, location, rain, shine, cold or burning up hot that makes these games great for me, it's the people I've met. I have friends that I'd never have met if it hadn't been for the Highland Games. Everyone of them are great people, wonderfully competitive, but never so much that they can't lend some really good advice. From Mike Baab telling me in Arlington "You want to throw farther?" Well, Mike, fuck yeah, I'd like to learn how. Straight faced and calm as a preacher he tells me, "It's simple, Suck Less". I cracked up. But he and many others have given me advise on the throwing and technique that all work. I like that. That's the reason I keep coming back. Baxter is killing me. He makes me pay a high price for taking these Road Trips, and going to the Games. He's a sneaky, rat cock sucker, that thinks he's winning. I've got news for you, Baxter, you rat mother fucker, you ain't winning. I am. The body? Yeah, take all that you want, I have friends that I need to tell how much I care for them, I still have ME. My thoughts, feelings, and my desire to see so many, you can't have, bitch.
So Liz and my kids that are still home, and I went to Scarby. Oh my God, so many people wishing me well. Actually and sincerely telling me how glad they were to see me. I was overwhelmed, and so full of amazement, and being humbled by the show of support for me and my family. The games were running long (not unusual, it's the nature of the athletic beast), I was sunburnt and work completely out. We packed up to leave. Mark Cooper had all the athletes gather around, his lovely wife Tamra cam over dressed in her full Ren. clothing, and several other folks from that group showed up. I was once again stunned and humbled. They gave a speech praising me, and telling me it was a blessing to know me. My eyes were about to leak. They gave me a game shirt, and a beautiful HUGE special edition Faire beer mug. I look around, about half embarrassed since in my mind, I wasn't anywhere near that special. I look around some more and see athletes with the sniffles and some leaky eyes as well. Shoot, my wife's eyes are leaking. Turn about, so they say is fair play. I had Tamra read a little something from me for everyone there…"Cancer has my voice, and for a lot of people, that's a blessing," (laughs from around the crowd. Apparently they all knew me), I had Tamra reading, "But the real blessing is mine, for being allowed to join this family. Each and everyone of you are special to me, in a lot of different ways.". That's where I left it. About 15 or 20 folks came by, as I was trying to escape, to wish me well, and that they were so glad to see me one more time. And more than a few to say they wished they'd met me years sooner. That slice of bread is buttered on both sides. I'd like to have known a lot more of the folks sooner myself. Like I say, it's not just the games, it's the people that compete at the games that made it special for me.
I look around, to this day, when people are telling me they are inspired by me, or enjoy my company, whether or not I can speak. So many folks just like sitting with me, and we don't have to talk or write. That's damn humbling, believe me.
So, that was my Road Trip. I'd like to make so many more, I don't know if I can, time will be the judge of that. My body is getting worse. I used 175 mg/hr on Fentanyl patches, just to get through my day, with the occasional morphine boost. Or if the sudden jump in pain isn't that rough, a touch of Lortab. I've got so many friends now, from HS buddies and really good friends for nearly 40 years, all the way up to people who've gone out of their way to meet me and call me friend, most of those with in the last 10 years, a pile more within the last 6 months to a year. It's astounding to me, and humbling, and so honored to be given that gift. Friendship is hard to make with me, and that so many had shows me I don't know shit about myself, yet. There's something there I don't see, that all these folks do see. Good Lord, what a blessing you all are to me and mine. Thank you all so much.
One of my more recent buds had the heavy weight for distance throw his ass down. He was kind of down about that. Myself and one other person were telling him not to sweat it, it happens to nearly everyone at some time in their throwing career.
The other person had to leave. So I said (well, wrote down for him anyway), "I was throwing at the second or third games in Odessa TX. I was a C then, so the weight was 56#, I was forcing the throw. In one turn I'd let the weight get away from me. When I lost it, the 56# dragged all 225# of me clear out of the box, and deposited me on the field about 4 feet from the edge of the box. It had to get me at least that. After the shock, I was laughing my ass off. So did everyone else once they found out I was okay.
Don't let that get you down, we've all spent time in grass throwing the HWD." He's a good guy, I hope he stays with it. Mark Cooper and I decided he gets my old fork. I hope it works for him as well as it did for me.
Okay, time to finish.
Amour De La Vie!!! Love Life half as much as I do and have in the past, you're gonna have a great life. Stick with it. Look at the sunrise, it's plain beautiful, same with sunset. There's always more good things going on than bad, even in your life. Even in mine, right now, there's far more to live for and enjoy even as it's slipping away from me. Be a better person, that was all I ever wanted, and in most cases I've made that, just having the affliction called "Amour De la Vie". Try it, it's a gas
