day 300 (written on day 297...)

Woo, I need to blow off some steam. An ever-so-tardy post shall be my therapy. If I weren't writing right now, I'd probably be throwing punches in the middle of the Philly airport. This is a much better channel for alleviating my frustration, agreed?

The man to my right is violently typing on his laptop. I really think his fingers must be in pain. Maybe he's typing about the annoying pissed off looking girl to his left (me). The three girls behind me,whom I am pretty sure are currently on the clock, continue laughing at an obnoxious volume level and talking about vaginas. Last, but most aggravating of all, the man nearby SLURPING his Panda Express. Absolutely nothing gets under my skin like odd chewing, swallowing, and breathing noises. Seriously dude, eat like a human, slurping was only cute in Lady and the Tramp. I bet if I were in the airport bar having a glass of wine I wouldn't be annoyed by such trivial things....68 days, 68 days. It's getting so close that I need to start thinking of a game plan for the bday/end of challenge celebration. Should I go out and order a nice bottle or stay in and buy a nice bottle? Notice a nice bottle is involved in both options, that's my only requirement.

I know I've said many times that this has been so much more fulfilling ad rewarding than I could have ever expected, but I need to reemphasize that point. The past ten months have changed my life so drastically, and in such a positive way, that I can confidently say I will forever be a stronger, happier and healthier individual because of it. Are all the outcomes solely from not drinking? Hell no. It has been a trickle effect all relating back to the fact that because I challenged myself to do something prolonged that changed my actions on a regular basis, I now believe I can do anything. Prolonged is the key word there, because I think the relatively long nature of the challenge really helped produce stronger and more meaningful results for me. Sometimes when I'm at crossfit, I finish and I'm literally shocked at the weight I just pulled or the time in which I completed the WOD; however during the workout I never doubt myself and I'm not scared to push further than I ever have before. (Unless it comes to box jumps - that's a different story.) In essence, I have changed my perspective on my life and the world around me. So, on that note, lets revisit the people I was just complaining about...maybe the guy on his laptop is really passionate about what he is typing or maybe his fingers are just cold and he can't tell he's assaulting the keyboard. I'm sure the laughing girls really do think that their vaginas are funny - I won't argue on that one. And the slurping guy, ugh this pains me, but he was just trying to enjoy a meal on the go. Who am I to sit in a public area and judge him for his disgusting noises? (Haha I can't help myself, even though I realize my flaws). Anyway, point is, it's all about perspective. Those people aren't worried about what I'm thinking, they are experiencing the moment from a different perspective, as we all obviously do.

Lately I find myself saying "it's all about perspective" at least twice a day. In mid-February, my family was changed forever. We lost my Uncle Andy. As I drove to pick-up his parents at the airport that morning, I was thinking about the topic of perspective. Most of the time when I travel, it is for pleasure. I am excited to get on the plane on the outbound because it marks the start of an adventure, and I'm usually exhausted yet (ironically) rejuvenated on the return, bringing back new treasured memories. Before that day, I never took the time to think that the person traveling next to me may be flying for a reason that would not be categorized as either business or pleasure. I was of course hurting, but it was then that I smiled. I found my thoughts were evoking compassion... an emotion Andy knew and conveyed better than anyone else, and an emotion with which I tend to struggle. I was convinced he would love that I was thinking of something in a new light, especially a light that made it easier for me to relate to others.

It was as if Andy could see straight through anyone, a verbal explanation was unnecessary for him. He knew what was going on inside (whether it was physical or emotional) and he would try to fix it if you gave him the shot. I think this is one of the million things that made him such a loved and admired pediatric physician /husband/father/uncle/brother/son/friend. Andy's perspective was unique because he was so selfless. I believe Andy had the insight of understanding and acknowledging differing perspectives down to an art and this was a reason he excelled in so many areas of life. He wasn't jailed or confined to a narrow mind. He assessed every situation individually, instead of tainting it with prior preconceived notions. I now find myself applying this concept daily in my life. I try to look at things from a million different angles to find the best solution, acknowledge that there are other solutions, and acknowledge that the person next to me may see it differently (and possibly even better).

This post is obviously a bit heavier than my typical light hearted tone...so let me end on some happy memories. Andy and I connected through a love of logic and numbers. When I was about 10 years old I visited Lori and Andy in Indiana and the national spelling bee was on TV. Andy was excited as he told me about this amazing young boy that could alphabetize the letters in a word. I replied, without hesitation, "That's not weird Uncle Andy, I do it all the time." He never doubted me but this time he did shake me off a bit, telling me again how the young boy did it. I said “test me,” and the words started flying at me. I remember the first word he tried was ladder, I said, “Oh, easy one! A-D-D-E-L-R.” He thought it must have been a fluke, so he kept going – for the next hour it seemed. Although he always loved me unconditionally, I’m fairly confident I gained some extra admiration points from Uncle Andy that day. Most recently we were all headed to lunch after meeting up at Sydney’s (Andy’s daughter/my cousin) swim meet. Andy and I were both driving there and he said “Hey Ken, which way are you going to take to get to Applebees?” I said “Oh, Mexico to Mid Rivers is definitely faster!” He was an investigator so he said “I think Jungermann may be quicker…go the speed limit so we can see.” When I arrived before him, I got my phone out and started the stopwatch. Everyone in the car made fun of me, “Ken we already beat him!” I said, “Guys, Andy won’t just want to know that we arrived first, he will want to know how close it was!” I will always miss him, but I am grateful to have had him in my life and I learned many lessons from him about how to treat others, to never stop asking questions and to constantly try looking at things from a new perspective. Love you Uncle Andy!