Jim Hite
BACK PORCH MUSINGS IN THE FOG!

The inspiration, if you can call it that, for this short column flowed out of the early morning quiet of a couple weeks ago.

By the time you read this, Joyce and I will have returned from a trip overseas. That is, if the planes are on time and connections in London and Washington, DC, are made.

As those of you who travel well know, there is a lot of preparation and planning necessary for any extended trip, and ours had added complications because of the fact that the purpose of the entire seven days was athletic competition. This meant extra clothing, shoes, plus a bicycle, helmet, tools.

On this particular morning, it hit me. What in the world am I doing?!! We're going to Gyor, Hungary, so I can compete in the World Duathlon Championships. What makes this 73-year-old guy from Millen think that he has any business competing against men of similar age from around the world? What makes him think he has any business being a member of Team USA, competing against teams from some 70 nations? What makes him think all the training, all the running and riding in preparation is of any value? And finally, is the expense involved worth it?

Hey, I'm good at guilt! But that's another, much longer story.

However, as my musings went on in a 'stream-of-consciousness' sort of way, it hit home just how unbelievably blessed I am that I can do this! Joyce and I talk frequently about how wonderful it is to be physically active, to have the blessings of health and fitness, to have the opportunities to travel and compete; in sum, to be able and to do.

Every once in a while, I wonder if all this is nothing more than a selfish activity, nothing more than personal satisfaction with no redeeming value.

I hope not!

Over and over, I find that all this running and riding, the hours on the road which many of you witness as you drive past, provides one of the most important human and psychological values a person can have, a purpose for each day. And, for me, it is competition that gives purpose to those hours on the road and on the bike.

In competition, I run and ride with, and against, similar men of similar age. Most are far faster than I. But that doesn't matter. We are doing it, all of us striving to do the absolute best we can. Even in our 70s, we are struggling with a youthful vigor that may be slower than in years past, but is none the less taking us to the exhausting limits of our strength and physical powers.

It's like the Rocky Balboa approach: "I gotta do it!" I do it. No one else does it for me. The event does beat me down, and to be honest, it hurts, sometimes hurts bad. But "I gotta do it!"

Notice how often the vertical pronoun comes up. So be it. I can't explain it any more (or should I say "better") than this!