Our strengths are often our weaknesses. They tilt us too far in one direction; they make us unbalanced. Like a genius who can’t converse with a layman.
One of the men I coach invited me to Hong Kong to help him prepare for the Tokyo marathon. Despite friends hesitations and queries of traveling to a foreign country, living with a man I’ve only met a handful of times, and spending a majority of the trip alone while he works, I accepted. The past week I have hiked steep wilderness trails, walked densely populated streets, and ran alongside an ever-improving Frenchman. I have feasted on foods I can’t be certain what were, navigated the trains, buses, and [cheap!] cabs of the bustling sub-tropical city, and shared days of exploration with people I’ll never meet again.
Before leaving NYC a friend remarked that opportunities like these only happen in Allieland. It’s my strength. My open and adventerous attitude acts like a magnetic force attaching me to every event passing by. Quite easily I trick myself into believing that any adventure is worthwhile. That saying no is losing a good experience. And that regrets of what could have been will haunt me.
But every affair doesn’t have a positive bearing on my livelihood. Actually, most of them just get in the way of my dreams. Luckily this trip has been anything but. Luckily this particular Frenchman has helped me see all the opportunity I have within.
Generally when I dedicate myself to running I come up with a checklist of restrictions along with my tabulation of goals.
No post midnight parties.
I become plagued by the things I can’t do rather than the things I can. I lose sight of the opportunity to achieve something bigger than the sum of my restrictions. I get so caught up in the no’s that I dismiss the adventure in front of me – the most momentous of them all – what can I be?