“What if I ran so fast, the world exploded?” Manchild asks.
“That would be amazing,” I say. “You would have to run sosososososo fast.”
And, I think it is safe to say, he would have reached his potential. He would have found that mystical, magical place where all the little tiny elements aligned — the training, the elevation, the weather, the tail wind, the nutrition, the fuel, the competition, the triggers for the explosive devices that could only be set off if a person of his particular weight and height and position reached a certain speed (88 miles per hour?) at a certain time — and he was able to do the best he could ever possibly hope to do.
That mystical, magical place beckons me in so many areas of my life:
How fast could I run if I had the time to put in two-a-days and log 90 miles a week?
(And I had a coach? And no kids? And a whole team of elite athletes to train with? Hahaha.)
What could Manchild do with his life if he were in a school that challenged and motivated and believed in him?
(And lined him up with scholarships and special tutors and recognized, as I do, that this child’s brain held the answers to . . . something amazing.)
Where is that elusive apartment that is just the right size; has not too many steps; includes a washer/dryer; is close to a train station, a grocery store, and a fruit stand; has plenty of natural light; is on a quiet street; has no inconveniently shaped rooms or a “what-were-they-thinking?” floor plan; is in a good school district; and comes with pleasant, understanding neighbors, a killer view, and backyard access?
(For only $1500 a month?)
(Oh, and no mice or roaches, either. Please.)
When will our energy levels, and interest levels, and connections, and opportunities, and passions all line up to launch us into the next phases of our careers?
(The phase in which we work from home, set our own hours, take naps in the middle of the day, and get paid lots of money.)
But I can’t think too much about these things, fun as it is, because I have a tendency to get carried away, to let my mind wander too far, to imagine this perfect alignment of every detail and the great things that could come from it . . . and then my brain explodes.