Thoughts from a sideline
I've spent some time on sporting event sidelines in the last few years. (5K and triathlon, mostly. Rae hasn't quite worked up to a marathon yet; I give it a year or two.) Here's the thing about these sidelines. They're like parades, but *better*. Objectively, a race is less interesting to watch than a parade; just a bunch of people doing the same thing as a bunch of other people, and none of them are twirling batons or banging a big drum or throwing candy. On these sidelines, there is a palpable joy/energy/excitement that someone *we know* is doing something amazing and heroic; remarkable and challenging. We cheer on our special person and total strangers, caught in the spirit that says each finish is a miracle to be celebrated whether the racer is an experienced old hand or a rank beginner, fighting for every last step to that banner. The camaraderie of the sideline is real, with little kids shouting "I see her! I see Mommy coming in!" and older children who momentarily break their too-cool-for-school mask when their person crosses the line and parents who occasionally seem baffled yet proud that the kid who didn't clean their room for five years straight in the mid-90s demonstrates they can set a goal and achieve it.
Sidelines are special in a way I can't fully articulate to people who've never experienced them. A bomb in a crowded space is a tragedy, but that this specialness could be a casualty is heartbreaking. That it should come later, with the novices and the personal bests and the there for the joy of achieving the previously unachievables... that is almost more than I can bear. But bear it I intend to, from the next sideline and the next and the one after that, for as long as my sister wants me. The meaning of the sideline is that we are there to support, however meagerly, someone who saw their potential and met it. Please, let us not lose that meaning as well.
Sidelines are special in a way I can't fully articulate to people who've never experienced them. A bomb in a crowded space is a tragedy, but that this specialness could be a casualty is heartbreaking. That it should come later, with the novices and the personal bests and the there for the joy of achieving the previously unachievables... that is almost more than I can bear. But bear it I intend to, from the next sideline and the next and the one after that, for as long as my sister wants me. The meaning of the sideline is that we are there to support, however meagerly, someone who saw their potential and met it. Please, let us not lose that meaning as well.