To some, the idea of winning isn’t everything. It’s the only thing.
But the truth is … it’s not.
I can’t remember the first time I won something. I suspect it’s hard for many people to search far back into the recesses of memory to grasp some fleeting moment that likely happened when we were too young to tuck the experience away in our mind and save it for later.
But we know the feeling. That’s something we never forget. Even if our memories fade and the past blurs, we’re able to recognize the wave of pleasant chills that course through our bodies.
Mine always start at the base of my spine. My feet and toes have literally propelled me to victories of physical strain, but they’ve never felt that surge of emotion. They think they know what victory feels like – sweaty, exhausted, painful – but I suspect they don’t know the sensation.
That’s reserved for my lower back, where a tingling always seems to cascade around to my stomach and quickly move up to my chest. From there, it starts to disappear, never going higher than my neck. My face doesn’t feel victory, but it certainly offers a distinct reaction to it.
I’m smiling today and it’s thanks to you. Thanks to your support, your criticisms and your ideas.
Long from now, I’m sure today will be remembered as any other day. However, the sensation is something sure to linger in a lifetime of efforts to achieve it over and over. There’s a tingle in my spine.
Victory is not a tangible object, but it sure feels like one.
A special thanks to all the readers who support me every day and those who voted to help me earn the “Lords of the Drinks” Award.
“Don’t drink to get drunk. Drink to enjoy life.” — Jack Kerouac