I have

As is the case most often the news is mixed. There is some good, along with the obligatory, not-so-good. Even a little of the downright bad. So here we go.

The seriously not so good is that the mysterious heart/lung ailment that has yet to be professionally diagnosed has returned. Just when I thought it might be history and I could feel my lost fitness slowly start to return, I have a relapse that has yet to subside. We are now in day five of me feeling like the next heartbeat might be with the operatic accompaniment of the Wagner's fat lady. Putting an alliterative spin on it: Shit seriously sucks. I barely made i through Monday's mild set of hill climbs in spin class, needing a two hour nap immediately following to simply sit and finish my trip preparations. Self diagnosed as idiopathic pericarditis, an inflammation of the sac surrounding the aorta, caused by black mold bacteria in the cabin, now it appears that the plan of waiting till affordable health care allows expensive cardiology testing, just won't wait. Cause the big gal is warming up backstage.

Which got me to thinking on the flight from damp Seattle to blistering Phoenix this morning. Let's say that the script calls for the ending without a curtain call. The hero goes down. Stopped in his prime like a fullback on the one. Denied. Stuffed. The end and over. What would I do deferent? Where is that dang bucket list? What is left undone?

And to my surprise - and this is the good news - I was at a loss to come up with anything. There is nothing that I have always wanted to do left on that list. Nothing. Sure it would have been nice to have a 160 ft yacht and a Ferrari. A summer place in Sicily and a big screen TV the size of Montana, but those are toys. Material and meaningless.

I have traveled.
I have loved.
I have competed.
I have created.
I have helped, coached, taught others.
I have played in a rock band.
I have worked.
I have experimented.
I have sang, laughed, danced and cried.
I have built.
I have meditated.
I have read.
I have tried to leave a small footprint.
I have won some, lost some and tied a few.
I have been rained out, too.

In other words, I have lived a little. I made a conscious decision to follow the bliss that filled my sails with the wind of passion. I made some mistakes. There are a few choices I wish I could make again. Passes tossed I wish back. Directions that could have been followed with a dab more precision. But, oh well. Maybe I'll get another chance in another lifetime. Maybe there will be a miracle cure, or at least a professional assessment. Maybe all this will go away and I can get back to Ironman training and cleaning up the mess from my lack of design and roofing skills.

Either way - standing ovation or the simple close of curtain -  the fat lady will sing one day. If it is to be tomorrow, that is OK.

I have lived.