Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Home or Homesick? Neither - just hungry

"In the journey to be better or best, do not forget the simple joy of being."

So just this week things have "really" started moving along, work and boxing alike. In addition to maintaining my aggressive cross-training regimen and transitioning into my new job (going GREAT, thank you) I've also begun easing back into the gym. And yes, I've been going to that gym - the boxing gym - the one with the elevated ring, the bags, the musky aroma, the constant thump-thumps and electric ping-ping-pings from the bell.

Finally back and finally rolling, thanks largely to my improved health and the fact that, from work, it's a shorter walk to the gym than the bus home. I've been itching to get back in the gym for weeks and couldn't possibly get this ball rolling any sooner. However, after a couple days of solid workouts, my training campaign was (per usual lately) interrupted by a 5-day trip to Kansas City for my best friend's wedding.

And wowee what a trip it was.

But at the same time, I feel like it kind of triggered a mid- mid-life crisis. Nothing big, so much as a little nostalgia.

And a lot of introspection.

I've lived in Boston for 5 happy years but I still consider KC home. And of course, home is where the heart is. As such, when you go home, see your family and closest friends, hit your town and have (hands-down) the best long weekend of your life, you can't help but be sad it's over.

And by "it" I mean more than just the wedding weekend.

Since last weekend my memories > emotions > thoughts have traversed every corner of my meandering 23-year life. And this isn't one of those cliche, Hollywood-esque "what's it all mean? what's it all for?!" self-examinations. Everybody wants to win at something, everybody wants to belong, everybody wants to be happy, everybody grows up, gets older, reality and your fat genes set in yadda yadda yadda. I know.

But this is different.

I miss Kansas City. I miss my boys (and girls - especially a few bridesmaids, hardy har) and family and dog and baseball team and food and the smells and the seasons and everything back home. I wonder whether going to Mizzou would have been better for me than BC (in the sense of life leaning more towards weekends like the last, of course) or what course of life decisions would have been best for my boxing career or on and on and yadda yadda yadda.

But then I wonder if, no matter what I did up to this point in life, I'd be as happy with my job, apartment, friends, hobbies, lifestyle, my everything that I've got going for me in Boston. Because I'm happy here.

At least I think am.

I feel like I am...

What should make someone happy? What makes me happy? What makes/should make/would make/could have made me happiest? Am I happiest? Will I ever know? And even if I did, then what?

I'd keep on...keepin' on, I guess. What else is there to do? What else would I need to know?

Well I'm (obviously) not there yet. But I know how I've felt this week, in the ring and just thinking about it. I know I'm hungrier than ever. I know what I want to accomplish and I know how I'm going to do it.

I'm going to train. I'm going to fight. And I'm going to win.

Because I know boxing makes me happy.

And because I know that there's nothing that's stopping me.

No comments: