I mentioned the other day that my wife did a triathlon recently. It was really cool to be there and see her, see all the other athletes, see their families and friends.

I tried to practice some of what I preach, I did my best to be genuinely interested in each person I saw and understanding and appreciating the path they traveled. Some of the athletes were amazing – you couldn’t create a better looking person with photoshop. Most, the vast majority, were more regular people. Moms and dads, brothers and sisters, kids. Some were more fit than others, many were better at one sport than the other two. Their equipment varied as well – I saw bikes like the one I rode to school in eighth grade (hint: it wasn’t in the last decade. Or the two decades before that). I saw bikes that probably cost thousands of dollars, with matching aero helmets and gloves and whatnot. Most were somewhere in between.

I loved seeing the families that were watching to cheer. The smiles on faces everywhere. Most of the contestants were running a personal race, maybe trying to beat their best time, or maybe it was their first time to try this and they just wanted to finish. It was really something amazing.

I’m not sure why this was on my mind today. It may have been the fool that cut me off on the way to work. As I briefly wondered just WTF he was doing that was so much more urgent than that I was doing, I then realized he is on his own path, doing what makes him happy. It’s a shame he doesn’t realize how he is making those around him suffer just so he can get what he is after, but that has nothing to do with me, and it’s not as if it is possible to have any sort of dialogue with him (as he runs a red light and disappears).

I do sort of hope his path leads to a flat tire this afternoon when it’s 100 degrees, but that’s about as mean as I’ll let myself get right now. There’s still time, maybe he’ll grow up some and change his priorities.

I’m working on that, too.