When I met her she lived on Pepsi, cigarettes, and spite. She drove her Mercury Mystique 90 minutes a day in rush hour traffic, drudgingly driving from her hapless marriage to her miserable job and then back again. She was happiest when she was drinking, traveling, or planning the next time she could drink or travel. But enough about the good old days.
In these last four years I’ve witnessed something of a metamorphosis. The Pepsi vanished and in its place a whole foods vegetarian diet. The cigarettes fell away as her exercise increased. More addictive than the nicotine, her new need for physical endurance has pushed her up 14,000 foot mountains, through the waters and sweat of her first and subsequent triathlons, and running in marathons and adventure racing and whatever other challenges come her way.
Occasionally she still drinks and travels, but now her souvenirs are of a different nature: Louie, her pug. Art she created and displayed at Altered Esthetics. Classic books she has read, now proudly displayed on a shelf. Memories of helping troubled children get a taste of making art.
So, while her job may not be everything of which she has dreamed, and while she is still trying to figure out how to become the person she was born to be, today—on her 29th birthday—I hope she pauses for a moment to contemplate how far she has come, how good she really has things.
Happy birthday my friend.
In these last four years I’ve witnessed something of a metamorphosis. The Pepsi vanished and in its place a whole foods vegetarian diet. The cigarettes fell away as her exercise increased. More addictive than the nicotine, her new need for physical endurance has pushed her up 14,000 foot mountains, through the waters and sweat of her first and subsequent triathlons, and running in marathons and adventure racing and whatever other challenges come her way.
Occasionally she still drinks and travels, but now her souvenirs are of a different nature: Louie, her pug. Art she created and displayed at Altered Esthetics. Classic books she has read, now proudly displayed on a shelf. Memories of helping troubled children get a taste of making art.
So, while her job may not be everything of which she has dreamed, and while she is still trying to figure out how to become the person she was born to be, today—on her 29th birthday—I hope she pauses for a moment to contemplate how far she has come, how good she really has things.
Happy birthday my friend.
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