Robin stood out, but it was Batman who gave me an unexpected moment of clarity that will be hard to shake. Hopefully you’ll understand why that was a good thing in a second.
It was at the first turn of the Wicked Halloween 10k I ran on Saturday, me being one of the few people not in a costume for the event — unless you wanted to call me a Husker fan considering my gear that day. Leaving the starting area, the course lurched straight ahead for a mile before everyone turned right onto Atlantic Avenue, aptly named as it runs parallel to the Atlantic Ocean just a couple hundred feet away.
As everyone started to slow for the curve, I noticed competitors going the other way and realized it was the faster runners of the groups that started before me looping back toward the other end of the main drive. That’s when Robin came into my view. He had a good pace going, and obviously was a runner. This wasn’t his first time putting feet to the pavement.
What wasn’t easily seen for a second was Batman — and that Robin was pushing him.
In front of Robin was a three-wheeler with Batman laying in it. It’s amazing how our minds are able to process things so quickly. In a flash, everything crystalized in my head. Batman had some sort of special needs, physical for sure, maybe more. He obviously couldn’t run for himself. There was no way for me to know his condition in that moment, though it did not seem certain he could do anything for himself. But one obvious thing that he could do stood out to me: enjoy life.
Whatever physical limitations may hold back Batman, they don’t stop him from embracing the day, continuing his journey. Robin was making sure, pushing Batman the length of the course so that he too could experience what it was like doing a 10k. And it looked like pure joy. I almost cried right there seeing the glowing smile Batman had, loving being on the course, being free of his condition even if only for an hour. You could tell he was so happy, enlightened by the chance to do what others do. And everyone else who passed by waved back as he cheered them along their journey.
It was only seconds, maybe five. Then they were gone, racing the opposite way and enjoying life. It took me aback realizing how everyone — anyone, EVERYone — can live life to the fullest. There’s no reason my life, your life, all of our lives shouldn’t be that fulfilling. We should all be Batmans, taking on challenges and turning them into victories. Let’s all work more on winning at life and focusing on what we need to thrive. It’s too short to not be happy with yourself, the choices you make and the way you live life. Enjoy it to the fullest.
Luckily, my life has had a lot of happiness because I’ve had a Robin for 18 years. She’s pushed me, made me explore the world, and find the way that works for me. She’s my better half, my rock and my biggest supporter. Sunday was a perfect example.
When the Cubs clinched the Pe
nnant last week, my first thought was ‘How am I going to be able to get to Chicago?’ There were flights, a hotel, lots of things that cost money, and not just a few bucks. Money that doesn’t just grow on trees. But it’s not always about the money. This time wasn’t. There aren’t enough words for me to show my appreciation for her letting me live out a dream.
She knew that, for at least 15 years, my goal has been to be in Wrigleyville for the Cubs’ first World Series appearance in my lifetime. Almost that whole time, the plan was to be at Casey Moran’s, across from the third-base side on Clark. There was little chance my finances would put me in position to be in the park, knowing this whole time just how crazy ticket prices would be. That prediction was true. So, the next best thing was to just be there, be with my people and live in my moment. That moment, that day was almost as perfectly glorious as Batman’s smile.
Nothing went wrong. Despite being utterly sore in every muscle of my body from the previous day’s run, my trip went exactly as planned. Up at 3:30 a.m., out the door by 4, on a flight by 5:30. Following a connection in Detroit, touchdown in Chicago at 9:30 was followed immediately by an unexpected pleasant surprise of finding an old work buddy from Atlanta sitting at my gate area in O’Hare. He was heading home with all the sad Miami fans after a crazy game at Notre Dame the day before.
After a quick, fun catchup chat, it was outside to be picked up by my lifelong best friend, the other one who’s been with me in 
most of my crazy adventures through life. After dropping our stuff at a hotel, we caught the train downtown for a special detour that we made on the fly — lunch at Harry Caray’s. Grabbing the Red Line up to Addison was all that was left to reach my personal heaven.
There was a lot of discussion all week about whether or not it was worth it for people to pay $100, $200, $300 or more to just sit in a bar across from the park. My answer before was yes, and my answer after is hell yes. Every minute was the epitome of the kind of day I’d want to have if I knew it would be my last. Scamming a free beer and a reserved table without paying at Johnny Barleycorn. Securing two spots at the patio bar in Casey Moran’s. The people. The game. Oh my, the game. The everything. It was exactly how my mind saw it for all these years.
My most meaningful tattoo includes a lyric from one of my favorite bands, O.A.R. It goes, “You can take all my money, take all my gold; but you can never take my heart, never take my soul.” It’s from the song That was a Crazy Game of Poker and is my reminder of the way to live hard, always. That life is what I make it. Not the physical things I own or money, all the stuff that some people think makes one successful or happy. My experiences, making memories. No one can take those from me, ever.
I’m just thankful and appreciative that the best Robin ever has my back.
Six-7 Offsuit 