The Dipsea

The Dipsea foot race--occuring for nearly a century in Marin County California-- is the second-oldest running event in the U.S., right behind The Boston Marathon. Mike D., a friend of mine has has won five black shirts, emblamatic of finishing in the top 35--out of more than 1000 runners.

When I told Mike about this blog, at first he seemed displeased, as if I were against sports. "No," I told him, "I love sports. Humanity would be less human without sports. I'm against SPECTATOR sports that make viewers feel as if they have accomplished something when their teams win ("We're number 1!"), while making viewers feel sad when their teams lose.

In a race like The Dipsea, the runners involved put everything on the line. They spend months in training. They risk injury. They ask their bodies to perform feats that are truly amazing. I admire people who engage in sports, whether they win or lose.

Last Sunday, on the day of the Dipsea, I took a short hike in my neighborhood. I chose a path that includes a short but strenuous uphill climb--nothing nearlyy as challenging as the climbs in the Dipsea. I found myself breathing hard, wondering if I could make it to the top, realizing that I am not in good shape. I felt the sweat under my arms. I had to talk to myself, urging me to keep at it. When I reached the top of the hill, I found myself in awe of the thousand plus runners who, at that moment, were doing the Dipsea.

Playing sports is good. Investing hours watching other people playing sports is--in my opinion--a sad waste of the precious hours given to us.