I just watched a video on Facebook of the Madison Men's 4x400 from the 08-09 Winter Track season. My younger brother was the first leg, I don't know 2nd and 3rd and a kid whose initials are M.S. ran anchor.
It is almost indescribable to see with my own eyes the track where I used to run and to hear the cheers I used to hear and to realize I was not a part of it.
I cannot put this feeling into words right now but I felt an obligation to write on the topic before the feeling goes away.
I remember that place and that race. I remember waking up balls early to catch a bus to Episcopal. I remember walking in with a boom-box playing "Listen to Your Heart (Dance Remix)" by DHT and laughing lustily at the looks thrust upon us. Those fucking assholes and their bleary eyed stares meant nothing. We were young, dumb and full of cum. We were hung over and pumped up. We knew everything there was to know and we still laughed when we saw the street sign for Balls Road. We were never the fastest, we were never the most dedicated, were weren't even the most spirited, but god dammit we knew what was up.
Sometimes I catch myself wishing I was 16 again. Then I remember how much shit I had to deal with back then and I stop myself. Then I remember that night when I was 14 and I swore to myself I would never be one of those people who idealized their youth. I swore that the person I was at 8 I'd be at 16. The person I was at 16 would be the person I'd be at 21. The person I was at 21 I'd be at 30. Ect, ect.
I don't live everyday like it was my last. And if I had the chance to do some shit different I would. And no matter how much my day-to-day life seems to suck sometimes I realize I do love it.
I love everyday in its own Cerebral Palsy sort of retarded way.