Lined up at the start, racers joked with each other, applauded and laughed as several racers were awarded randomly draw monetary primes, and I watched…
The announcer introduced a woman who’d sing the National Anthem in honor of the veterans participating in the hand-pedal race. Unaccompanied, her strong, rich, unwavering voice rose goosebumps on my flesh. Taking my eyes off the flag, I snuck a peek at the field of racers who held hands over hearts.
I had no doubt these men and women had no quit in them.
I felt my own heart swell in admiration of their strength.
I wondered how I’d react if one moment I was “normal” and the next I learned I’d never walk again.
When the gun sounded, I watched the effort required to gain momentum using arms instead of legs from a supine position. No small task. As in all races, some competitor’s strength shone above the pack.
I’ve read in several places about human happiness levels. They tend to gravitate to a baseline. Win the lottery or lose the use of your legs—many adapt with time and return to the same inner world they inhabited before the event.
Watching the racers yesterday reminded me that happiness is an inside job.
Where do you invest your efforts?