Seeing past solipsism to better.

Three years ago a close friend of mine was diagnosed with cancer. Somewhere between two years and six and nine months ago, his left calf was mostly removed to make sure that his entire cancerous tumor went with it. It was unclear if he’d be able to run again. Two years ago, he ran a marathon. One year ago, he ran 35 miles on mud trails. On Saturday, he biked 103 miles over snowy mountain passes.

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I spend a lot of time thinking about being better. Being better at working out, being better at not being a fatso or a drunk, being better at my job by writing better, being better at being a friend and a brother and a son. (And being better at being a boyfriend…if I had a girlfriend.) I look at it all as a vague blob of slow improvements. Occasionally it’s all marked by concrete benchmarks: a raise, a new longest run, but mostly it’s all gray. Despite having few obstacles—highlighted by no major obstacles—I’m content with very incremental improvement. A super slow advance to better.

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I hope everyone takes this in the best way possible, but every time my buddy achieves one of these yearly feats of strength, I feel like a piece of shit. It’s not for lack of sincere appreciation for what he has accomplished. I’m incredibly thankful for and in awe of his ability to first beat cancer, and then give cancer an extra ‘fuck you’ every year on his cancer’s birthday. But rather, it’s because despite a yearly reminder of the ability of human willpower—manifested there in an amazing friend, or also in my mother who has now twice beat cancer—I don’t utilize that power that is innate in all of us. I plod towards better. If I don’t pick up my pace, I may never achieve better. Those around me, those close to me, do incredible things. It’s time to take them to heart; to be better by being more like them.