Accomplishments and Priorities

I had a major accomplishment today. I ran 11 miles without walking. I was on a high, feeling like I’d conquered the world. I had thoughts going through my head that, aside from family and church accomplishments, this was the single most amazing thing I’d done in my entire life. Even more than being the first one in my family (parents, grandparents, on back) to graduate from college, even more than mastering Japanese, even more than purchasing a home, blah blah blah.

Upon finishing my run, I had composed in my mind a blog post to put all other blog posts to shame. Beautiful composition with big words, deeply-thought out mile-by-mile descriptions, something that would bring tears to the eyes of anyone who read it and would surely earn me a handsome bonus when a publisher bought it to include in Chicken Soup for the Runner’s Soul (according to the website, I have until December 31 to submit).

But then I got home. I walked in excited to sit the family down and give them a recap of my Olympic-like victory over everything I once thought to be a physical impossibility, following which they would quickly fashion a crown of olive branches (I’m sure Jenny’s already made one, I just haven’t found it yet, but today was the day she’d pull it out), scream and shout, and whisk me off to the ticker-tape parade being held for me down the street. Then I realized Jenny was in the shower, and I’d promised to mow the lawn this morning. So I changed shoes, still on my adrenaline high, and went out to mow the lawn. Besides, I should have a crisp lawn when the TV crews show up later. Mowing, I rehearsed again the points of my blog post so I had everything straight. When I’d finished, I came back in and Jenny was working on the computer. I then announced what I wanted to announce. I was met by wide eyes, and a high five (she said she didn’t want to hug me sweaty and smelling like B.O./ lawn clippings/gasoline). She asked the boys if they knew what I’d done and how awesome I was. Ok, not quite the way I’d rehearsed it in my head, but I’m sure it would happen after my shower.

But it didn’t. I stopped to think for a second. Yes, what I’d accomplished today is great, and something to be proud of. But as I looked around the room while Jenny was saying “Liam pooped his pants and needs a bath. I’m off to the library,” I realized that I’ve already accomplished something of significant importance. I have a family more incredible than I ever imagined myself being a part of. No career accomplishments, no running milestones, no tickertape parades, could EVER come close to the feeling of walking into a home where the people there love you just because of who you are.