Wednesday, October 3, 2018

Part 1

Home from football, walked in on my wife going through a Mike Dolce video. If you don’t know him, you should. He has a couple cookbooks and won personal trainer (or maybe just trainer?) of the year award, trains ufc athletes.  So I’m watching and smiling... and I started to flash back to when I wanted to be that guy on the tv.   I sat down and loved his enthusiasm and remembered to when I would copy him and study how he taught because I wanted that.  I wanted that enthusiasm and charisma, I wanted people to love the classes and get results.  

And eventually walked out and started to cry.  Because it finally hit me, that I quit.  I quit because my mother was diagnosed w a cancer that I felt I could’ve helped her prevent and I didn’t.   I didn’t help her.  I tried, and it just didn’t work.  And when that happened, I left.  I lied and tried to say I didn’t, that it was fine, everything is fine, but I wasn’t really there.  


I can’t find a way to not hold myself partially responsible.  The mention of her or “hospice,” and watch me try my best poker face, which usually ends w welling eyes.... don’t blink.  

This Is Blue Chip