Eighteen years! How did I pull that one off?
There are profound questions we often ask the universe: Why are pickle jars so hard to open? How come the pollen falls the worst right after you wash your cars? Why would a relatively normal looking cat run into the street like it was going to attack me? Pro-FOUND questions. Earth-shaking questions.
Like this one: How did I convince such a wonderful woman to marry me? And how did I get her to stick around for 18 years? (Maybe it’s my smile! I brush at least twice a day.)
My wife and I celebrated our 18th anniversary this past weekend. We went out to dinner. We had cocktails on the bayfront. We ate a decadent piece of flour-less chocolate torte. (Torte stands for “so damn good you can keep your flour!”) We stayed out well past our bedtime.
It was a fantastic night, and a microcosm of our time together — incredibly enjoyable and something you hope will never end.
I relate so many things in life to running. It’s one of those activities and sports that I find has many parallels to day-to-day living. (Like this one: “Keep putting one foot in front of the other and don’t get hit by cars.”)
Races, miles, and even numbers seem to correlate to events in life. Which got me thinking about the number “18.”
I’ve run two marathons in my life, and 18 miles is about the point when you start to break down. When your body feels pulverized and your mind starts thinking about quitting. When you ask yourself, “What kind of homemade gin was I drinking when I came up with this ridiculous idea?”
Eighteen of anything is a lot. When my wife reminded me it had been 18 years — I’m not very good at counting or simple arithmetic … or remembering when I got married — I blurted out, “You’re kidding!”
I think it startled her.
But it wasn’t shock that it had been so long. Rather, it was that it only seems like yesterday. How could that be?
Life goes by faster when you enjoy it. When it’s memorable. When you don’t want it to end.
I still feel like those two kids standing at the alter — no clue about what the world would have in store for us. How we would navigate it. If we would make it.
Now, 18 years later, I’m not sure how I pulled this one off. But I am certain that it’s been a remarkable stretch, my legs haven’t failed me yet and, unlike my marathons, I definitely don’t mind this one going on and on.