What I Learned from a Fish

                                                              A fish called Walter

I first met Walter about three months ago in one of my favorite fishing holes on the Pequest River.  The first time I saw him he launched out of the air like a rocket and I thought my heart skipped a beat. He took off down river and my reel was singing as the line went straight to the backing. He broke the fly off my tippet and I was left staring at the river with my mouth open wondering what just happened. Like a bad addiction, I kept coming back to the river conveniently a mile from my home to hunt for Walter. Trout have a tendency to return to the same place and they rarely wander far from home. I hooked and lost Walter four times over the last three months. The last time he launched into the air and I swear he smiled at me before he spit the hook from his mouth. Each time I would ceremoniously lose Walter I would come home and tell my wife and daughter the story of another epic battle where Walter was the victor.  I believe even my family had grown fond of this fish. After a fight for the ages I finally landed Walter today and got to hold the beautiful fish. He flew out of the air three times and it took me 30 minutes to finally bring him to hand. He was too big to fit in my net so I had to bring him to the shore. When Walter and I finally met face to face I felt as if I was looking at an old friend. Like my fly fishing buddy and NJ fishing Guide John Heaney said, when I finally landed him I had a whole new respect for the fish. I took my pictures, of course, and gently got him back in the water and swimming again. I tipped my hat to Walter waved goodbye and thanked him for the experience. It’s one I will never forget. There is something very special about that fish. The pictures of him leaping out of the air are etched in my mind. Though I likely woke up sleepy neighbors with my screams of frustration the times I lost him I’m glad I did. Nothing easy has ever felt truly earned and Walter is a reminder that perseverance brings rewards and if you keep trying eventually you may land the fish, the job, the next great picture and maybe even finish the race.

 

Coming Back to Life

                                                                Photo by Jeremy Lock

It's hard to stay away from the things you love. Especially when those things teach you how to live, love, hope and dream. I've missed running terribly. I didn't realize how it has such a profound effect on my life until I stopped. I always felt guilty when my running would take me away from my family. It wasn't until I stopped running that I realized how running made me a better husband and father. When I was running I was happier. I was more relaxed. More focused. I was more in the moment when around my family and others. Running made me an all around better person. When I was running I had faith. I believed. With each passing day that I was not running I would look back on my running adventures as some of the greatest moments of my life. They were adventures completely fueled for my love and friendship with God. That relationship becomes difficult for me when I am not running. It's just one more reason I stopped. I became confused and frustrated that a feeling so strong was confined to the trails. I began to doubt.
I have begun to run again and I am signed up to run the Oil Creek 100 Mile Trail Run Oct 08. Right now, it feels impossible. Hopeless. However, I know from experience that anything is possible. All you have to do is keep moving forward. You have to want the dream so bad that you can taste the finish line months before you step to the starting line. You have to enjoy the journey. Expect the difficult days and push through them. Cherish the moments when you feel so damn good you start dancing on the trail. Possibly screaming to the clouds because you are all alone in the middle of nowhere. Looking up and remembering. Dreaming. Feeling completely and wonderfully alive.