a taste of complete perspective

a drawing by eric shaw.

sometimes i feel like i'm at my best, or happiest, when i'm out of my element. no i'm not talking about my car. i can do well in it as well, grant you today mike got it stuck in the back rhubarb cause my snow tires are embarassing, or non-existent. the dudes at crappy tire shake their heads when i tell them i'm driving to winnipeg on curling shoes. ramble ramble ramble...

you should see me run a triathalon on an empty stomach in skateboard shoes, with a hangover. spur of the moment.

... the bike this old dude lent me broke and then i took a left when i should've taken a right and still was able to come back and pass this old dude. shitty thing about it was, as i approached this old dude, this was at the running part of the race, i was all psyched. i was like "okay i'm going to burn by this guy, not say anything, just pass him and carry on to the end." i didn't want it to be awkward for him. and i was like "perfect, keep your head down". so as i pull up beside him, and i was a mess... felt like i was going to die, fading away...psycho babble at 11... he turns to me, and he goes "the name's jim smith (name changed). we gonna finish this thing together or what?" and i was like "yeah, jim, yeah". i had to. he was too nice and wanted companionship down the final stretch of loss. and we did... but as i was approaching the finish line, and there's the people cheering us on (sidenote: i'm a total loser who didn't get laid at the awards ceremony afterparty obviously) i had this great epiphany. when someone checks the score of an event or tournament, they always check the first place and last place person, i've found. i was in a 3-on-3 basketball tournament when i was in grade 6 and i remember going into the last game, playing for the D-championship ( the last place game) and thinking that "hey we should throw the game and get last place that way at least people will see our names." unfortunately we won and were lost amid the pile of amateur sports losers, never to be seen. as if we could've thrown the game. it was a battle. anyways, as we crossed the line i was proud. i'd come last. my name would be seen and people would say "that guy, altough he isn't an athlete, sure has heart" it was noble to slow down and cross the line together.

i ate some orange slices and drank some water.

i walked over to the window that the times were posted on and...

i was second last.

i was hungover, dehydrated, my feet hurt and i was second last... not even good at losing.