Life is Short

Kelly McGarry, famous competitive mountain bike rider, died. He was only 33 years old. Life is short. For many, REALLY short. Too short.

Although this has very little to do with chemical sensitivity, it reminded me we need to appreciate each day as it comes even if we are not feeling up to speed or downright miserable. It reminded me to be cognitive of each moment. No matter how our life presents itself, it'll go by fast regardless.

In my former life I used to ride a mountain bike. I was never really very good at it. My first experience was with people who promised they would take us on a beginner trail. I say "us" because I was with two other beginners, my good friend and his adult daughter. The trail was anything but beginning...or maybe it was, but it was absolutely frightening with sand pits, cliffs, ledges, and poisonous snakes. For snake encounters - big, fat rattlesnakes lying in the sun across the trail - we were instructed to ride very fast so the snake wouldn't know what hit him and by the time the snake figured it out, we'd be gone. Hmmm... 

After a least an hour of horrifying torture and physical exhaustion, my friend's daughter ended up crashing in the middle of the desert. Miles away from civilization. She was so pissed off with our "trainers" and the experience she refused to get back on the bike and started walking. Or rather hobbling defiantly. Someone had to wheel her bike behind her. I survived, but not without too many bruises and a whole lot of pain that took a long time to heal. After that experience, I became far more selective of mountain biker companions. With time I got better at it, but I found it more fun to go to the competitions and watch the professionals sail effortlessly over the trails that nearly killed me. 

Anyway, just reminiscing about year's past and my former life. For those of you with energy, mountain biking would be a fairly non-toxic outdoor activity, but it's not without risks. Death being one of them.

Here is video footage of Kelly McGarry. The camera is on his helmet and he does a few flips at the Red Bull Rampage. And he won SECOND place (you can see where he misses the trail at one point). Whoa! It's totally frightening.

A Former Life Haunting?

I had a very brief, but very weird encounter today. I stopped in an antique store in a distant town to look for antique molding to repair my living room where the baseboard heater was removed. It was a quick side trip just to check if they had any in the size I needed and to price check it for comparison.

As I entered the store, I quickly glanced up and noticed a teenage boy looking at me and smiling. I'm estimating his age at about 14-15 years old, blonde curly hair, very cute and sweet looking. He was with others, but I wasn't paying attention and I made the quick assumption he was conversing with someone and by chance looked my way. However, for a brief second it felt like he knew me.

I have to admit, this isn't anything new. Strangers always smile at me like they know me. In grocery stores, on the street, in cities miles away. I'm not sure why. Do I walk around looking friendly? Do I look familiar? I've had people all my life tell me I look like their best friend's cousin's sister so I'm kind of used to it. Unfortunately, now I'm so anti-social it only irritates me. I brushed off this boy's familiar smile and continued through the store.

I headed back to the inner cubicles of this antique warehouse and as I'm looking at the molding, I glance around to see if there is more inventory and again, out of the corner of my eye I notice this boy purposefully watching me from a distance. The people with him were looking at something farther away and not paying attention. As our eyes met, he gave me the biggest, warmest, most loving smile like we are old friends reunited. Does he think I'm someone else? Unfortunately, it made me feel uncomfortable and after a quick inventory of the molding I made a beeline out of the store and out of town.

Much later I thought about this boy. Was he a former student? I did the math and my last teaching job was thirteen years ago so the youngest of my students would have been five years old. Could the boy have been 18 years old? Maybe. I wasn't really paying attention to him and merely glanced at him each time. He could have been older.

This is what is so scary about being a former teacher...adults don't usually age enough to become unrecognizable, but kids sure do and that always puts me at a disadvantage. I had a former sixth grader come up to me in public only a year after I had her in class and she was a foot taller, twenty pounds lighter, and totally unrecognizable looking like a young woman. It's frightening to have someone come up and say, "Miss Yatna? Do you remember me?" Just the Miss Yatna makes me jump out of my skin as not all my teaching memories are good ones, but they are always so happy to see me. They exude such warmth and love like I was the best memory of their childhood.

With former student encounters I always respond with, "OK, who are you? More than likely I know your name and remember, but you've grown up so I don't recognize you." Or I recognize their voice first and then connect the face. Or the younger kids used to just run at me and give me a hug before I even realize what was happening and I'm thinking, "Who the hell is this?" But it's been long enough none of them are young anymore. I have yet to encounter any student formerly classified as devil spawn and there were many. There are a few names that would illicit a quick, "You were such a horrible nightmare in my class."

I feel badly my anti-social behavior prevented me from taking a moment and asking the boy who he was. We were both about five hours and a state away from any school where we may have known one another so I didn't even connect him as a former student until much later. I keep remembering his smile. It was so loving like it was all he could do to keep from throwing his arms around me.

I hope I didn't hurt his feelings. I feel sad about this.

FML.