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May the 4th be with you…

May 5, 2014

The great and powerful Yoda

Try not.
Do or do not. There is no try.

Yes, it’s an awful pun, but this day marks my first Wellness post in a year. May 4th also happens to be my daughter’s one-year wedding anniversary, a bitter one because her marriage has since dissolved. To make things worse, the day begins with a call from the Grace hospital. Longtime cycling buddy, Wayne Ferguson, has just fallen on the hip that he had replaced last week. For some reason it reminds me of Gurdeesh Ghuman, another Rebel Rider, who had his dreams of a 2013 MS ride dashed by a heart attack . As if the day is not off to a gloomy enough start,Terry MacLeod shares on the Weekend Morning Show that he had to abandon a movie last night because an able-bodied couple occupying the only handicap seating in the theatre had refused to move. Jerks everywhere. Income taxes due tomorrow. Mine not done. And it’s still not above freezing!

Let’s get out of here before one of those things kills Guy. – Gwen DeMarco, Galaxy Quest

Winnipeg Police Half-Marathon

But you know, it is so easy to let life’s clouds obscure the sunlight beyond. I realized as I drove up Portage Avenue to drop my wife off at work that today was the Winnipeg Police Half Marathon (10th Annual to boot!). On the way back home I stopped to check it out. It was truly inspiring. Oh sure, there were hundreds (yes hundreds!) of runners zipping by, some not quite so zippy. But the people lining the curb are the ones who really gave me hope. Having parked our cars (and troubles?) on Portage Avenue, we were all clapping and cheering on total strangers as they ran past, a serendipitous breeze of shared enthusiasm that quickly sapped the chill out of the morning air.

And it reminded me that sometimes we have to stop and refocus on the good, the uplifting, the courageous. Terry, rather than cursing his movie-robbing-seat-hogs, had wished them a pleasant evening before leaving. I’m still cursing my taxes, but it’s now a sunny 8 degrees and I’m back home finishing them up to the rousing throb of Santana’s Primavera (Spring! How appropriate is that?). I bumped into Gurdeesh last week. He has recovered and is again cruising our campus hallways, that infectious smile of his ever beaming. 75 year-old Wayne is planning to shake off his gimp hip to cycle the Headwaters this September (a one-day, 100-mile ride round the headwaters of the Mississippi). My daughter too is moving on.

And I am looking forward with anticipation to soon connecting with both old and new Rebel Riders. But that’s another story.

Never give up. Never surrender.