When you say hello try and mean it. It is a simple gift, but it reverberates to our marrow. It sets the stage for good bye. There is a part of Albuquerque called San Jo, short for San Jose. I had a cousin who represented this area as a boxer. He was born on this date. As I have posted previously, he was violently murdered, wasting talent and a good heart. I can see his grave marker, a concrete boxing ring with ropes and all, when I drive south on I-25. He reminds me of the work that can be done in our Albuquerque communities.
I think of him when i am in a tough workout. I try to think of the struggle he put up in his last hours alive. I think of him when I can taste the iron in the back of my throat. I think of him when each breath is in itself exhausting. I think of him when my muscle are filled with lactic acid and they become unreliable. I think of him when I reach that dizziness that only lets me concentrate on breathing and movements motivated by muscle memory. My workouts finish and I rest. I think to myself how that workout might be practice for death. The anxiety of life is a hello to struggle.
Before each workout I get nervous because I despise the exhaustion and fatigue that leaves me vulnerable and cashed. With every hello to a workout there is a deep connection to the living experience, the moment, and it ends. It ends with what feels like heaven. They call it a natural high and it is a reward for saying hello and trusting the good bye.
Happy Birthday Primo!