Shrug

I officially turn 40 later this week, and it's weird. Mrs. Greyhound and her "family of origin" make a big deal out of birthdays. Mine, not so much. There were so many in the extended family near by that we saved up birthdays, and mine usually got lumped together with a cousin, my dad, and a grandma.

So Mrs. Greyhound is completely nonplussed and frusrated when she asks me what I want or what I want to do, and all she gets is the shrug. This, after 17 years of marriage and 19 birthdays in which she has gotten basically the same reaction.

At this point in my life I have a lot of "things." I don't need any more "things" and if I see some shiny "thing" that I just can't live without, it tends to get bought. I've bought enough things to predict that they only excite for awhile anyway.

There are some non-material "things" that I would like; the problem, however, is that they are harder to come by than the shiny stuff. It's not the kind of stuff you can request for a birthday present. But I really, really want them.

I want to discover triathlon when I'm 25. I want the friendships I have at 40, only 15 years earlier.

I want to do my 30s over again, with just a little confidence this time.

I want my wife to be healthy enough to swim, bike and run with me.

I want to laugh more often, to love more recklessly, and live like there is no tomorrow.

I want to be known for random acts of kindness, not as the smart, quiet guy.

I want to do and enjoy this sport until I run out of age groups, and die in an endorphinated sleep after my last finish line beer.

I want a 45 degree evening where the air is dry, the mountains are still, and all of my friends are gathered around an outdoor fireplace after an epic training ride, laughing and sharing stories. Our group includes not only my close friends like Maria Gratia, Ubergreyhound, Coach T, Scuba Steve, but also the bloggers I have met in real life like Kahuna, Iron Wil, Stu, Trisaratops, Bolder, Trimama, Taconite Boy, Mishele . . . . It even includes the close friends I have never met, like Triboomer, Brett, A.J., Nytro, Iron Benny, . . . . Besides our laughter, all you can hear is the wind in the pines, and the Blue River gurgling down the valley. None of us has to leave, none has to go back to work, none wants to . . .

Well, it's what I want. **shrug**