Old Long Ago

The poem Auld Land Syne by Robert Burns has been immortalised by the tradition of singing the lyrics to Auld Lang Syne at Christmas and New Year parties. Auld Lang Syne is also sung on Burns Night, 25th January to celebrate the life and works of Robert Burns. Auld Lang Syne was written in 1788 and the words 'Auld Lang Syne' literally translates from old Scottish dialect meaning 'Old Long Ago' and is about love and friendship in times past. The words in the poem Auld Lang Syne referring to 'We'll take a Cup of Kindness yet' relate to a drink shared by men and women to symbolise friendship. [From Poetry-Online.org]

Do you know why the finish line of an Ironman race is so crowded? I think I do. The crowd gathers because nobody makes it to the beginning or the end of an Ironman jouney alone.

I certainly cannot, and will not. I not only crave and hunger for the momentum of fellow athletes and family.

This old dog body apparently refuses to hold together without a team of highly skilled trainers, physical therapists, massage therapists and voodoo practitioners. These professional inputs may heal my body, but without the people who love me--warts and all--family, friends, and in this case the trainers who truly care about my success--my body has none of the spirit necessary to move forward.

I heard of one Duke University study positing that one in four Americans have no friends. None. Wow. I have experienced a wee taste of that, and it is crushingly dark, heavy, deep and depressing. Not to impose my own theology on you, but this condition of alone-ness is the only thing that God proclaimed as "not good" about the creation. ("It is not good for man to be alone.") It certainly rings true in my experience. Try as we might to be the strong silent individualist of American lore, triathlon teaches me that no matter how strong I am, I am stronger still when I am bound together in an unbreakable cord with my friends. The more friends I have, and the more tightly we are bound together, the stronger I become. How wonderfully ironic that a sport about individuals against the clock and that prohibits outside assistance binds us together so thoroughly.

This year ends with my body broken, but my condition unimaginably magnified. I have more friends and am more tightly bound to them than ever before, largely because I took up a bizarre hobby and stumbled upon the Kahuna's blog when googling triathlon stuff.

Serendipity? Providence? Whatever. It tastes great, and next year will be even better.

Thank you, friends. From the bottom of an ever-deepening canine heart. Think back upon "Old Long Ago" and look forward to warm and strong "yet to comes."

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And never brought to mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And auld lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear,

For auld lang syne,

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp,

And surely I'll be mine!

And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear,

For auld lang syne,

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

We twa hae run about the braes,

And pu'd the gowans fine;

But we've wandered mony a weary fit

Sin' auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear,

For auld lang syne,

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

We twa hae paidled i' the burn,

Frae morning sun till dine;

But seas between us braid hae roared

Sin' auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear,

For auld lang syne,

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

And there's a hand, my trusty fiere,

And gie's a hand o' thine!

And we'll tak a right guid-willie waught

For auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear,

For auld lang syne,

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.