Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. I’m sitting post run in my hotel room in Asheville on what could be my last layover in a while, and I wanted to share my thoughts with you.
I was drifting in and out of attention on the van ride to the hotel last night. I was on my phone trying to plan out my running route, when I caught the tail end of that familiar Queen and Bowie bass beet over the van radio. The words washed over me knowing this could be me last trip, and expecting a furlough notice any day, “this is our last dance, this is ourselves under pressure”
First off, I love my job, I’m grateful to be here, and I’m even more grateful that I knew this could be my last dance. Back in March, I got in an argument with the captain I flew with right at the end of the last rotation I would fly before lockdown. I didn’t know at the time that I would be out of the cockpit for an uncertain length of time, but I probably could have been a better version of myself if I had known.
Going in to this trip knowing that there is a good chance I don’t fly next month, and a good chance I get furloughed in October (I received my furlough notice along with 1940 other pilots a few minutes ago) I was primed to appreciate all of it (good and bad) with that knowledge ahead of time.
It’s hard to see past the built in endings in anything. I remember crying while hugging my coach and my mother after my last wrestling match, not so much because I was sad, but because there is an emptiness left in the wake of mission completion. I remember the same emotions, crying alone in my hotel room after I finished Ironman FL.
I went on to coach wrestling and started Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, and I continue training for and competing in triathlons, so they weren’t true endings, more like page breaks. But, there is still an emptiness especially in the immediate aftermath that is, I believe, unavoidable.
I’m fighting those same emotions and fighting back tears writing this now. I know (or strongly believe anyhow) that as a relatively young man this is not an ending, but just a page break in my career. Objectively, I understand this, but it provides little comfort to my short term feelings of emptiness.
If you’ve followed the blog for any length of time (thank you), I’ve been a preacher (for lack off a better term) of strengthening mental, physical, and emotional well-being, as a way to be better prepared no matter what situations you encounter. I feel blessed that my biggest concern is how much I will miss flying and how it has become a part of me, rather than my ability through flying to fulfill more base needs for my family (ie food on the table, and a roof over head)
My family and I will be fine. In the grand scheme of things this will be a story we tell years from now in cockpits and at dinner parties. But in the short term, where page breaks seem like cliffs, emotions can run high, molehills can be turned into mountains.
Whatever may come over the next few months or years, I hope that I have prepared myself and my family to the best of my ability, for the challenges ahead. I hope that new passion and warmth fills in the emptiness that these events leave in their wake. I hope I am able to have the same appreciation throughout my career, as I have for this potential last(for a while anyway) flight. I hope that I can enjoy what may be my last dance, and that my family and I can live well, under pressure.
Thanks for joining me, stay safe and stay sweaty my friends.