When I was a little girl, I deeply hated eating my vegetables, and none of the usual tricks worked. The fork is an airplane? It's a train coming into my mouth tunnel? What do I look like, an idiot? But I did have a very strong sense of allegiance to those I cared about, which is the loophole my parents used to keep me from being nutrient deficient. Every bite would be dedicated to someone in my family, or, once we ran out of extended relatives, Sesame Street characters. And I'd simply have to eat them... out of respect for my Omi, or Nana, or cousin Martina, or Bert, or Ernie. Eventually, even though I hated eating vegetables, even I'd be suggesting family members we'd left off and eating for them. It was like the little kid version of pouring one out for the homies.

Recently, I read a little anecdote from an Ironman athlete, who said whenever she runs the marathon in her races, she likes to dedicate each mile to a different person in her life. This would basically be the running equivalent of my vegetable eating... whenever I think, "ew, I don't want to anymore", I have to say, "Do it for Mom," "Do it for your best friends", "Do it for everyone who's been there for you". And then I'll simply have to keep going, if only out of respect. So I've made a list (which I am trying to remember... maybe I'll need a cheat sheet, hah) with a person, or couple of peoples, for every mile. But the last 0.2? Those are for me alone.

I will put up the list once it's fully finalized. For future budgety endeavors (NY/NJ IM?) I'm thinking I'll auction them off to pay for the exorbitant entrance fee. Sure, you can't prove I'm thinking of you, but I am a woman of my word... and I bet there will be some strong vibes emitting from my weary body out into the world that would be worth paying for. People buy stranger things, no?

AuthorNikki Muller