These last few days, or perhaps I should say weeks or even months, some conversations around me have revolved around how we are ‘on the brink of war’. Others, though fewer, will argue that we are ‘on the brink of a new start’, with a new presidency, that is. Yet others, more balanced in their optimism-pessimism, will state that we are merely ‘on the brink of new negotiations’.
In the meantime, we feel, in turns, that we are on the brink of insanity…
You see, being on the brink of anything implies that you are somehow currently suspended at a pivotal point. The image that always comes to my mind is of a physical ‘brink’; you’ve already hiked your way up a particular path, somewhat long and winding, too far to turn back, and you find yourself at some sort of cliff. You can only see what lies at the other end if you walk a little closer and look over the edge, but taking those few steps usually means you’ve made your decision to keep going.
We, as a people, though clearly on the brink of something, seem paralysed in our spot, hesitating to approach that ‘cliff’. And I would argue that remaining at that spot, with all the continuous decision analysis that it entails (Do we approach? Do we deal with the losses and walk back? Are there other points/cliffs we should walk towards?) will eventually make us – you guessed it – insane.
So while we sit here, on the brink of one thing or another, I contemplate the types of brinks we could be at instead: on the brink of greatness, on the brink of revolutionary change … heck, I’d settle for on the brink of utter boredom right now. It may be folly, but I’m sick of being in limbo, and my foot’s making that move towards these brinks – want to join?
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Marathon Day
The Beirut Marathon took place today, and I’m proud to say that I took part in it (the 10K run, that is) with the aches and blisters to prove it. To think I almost didn’t make it (word to the wise: don’t stay up late eating and drinking the night before), and to think I would have missed out on one of the very few city events we’ve had here in a while. A sense of community took over the town for a few hours on a Sunday morning, where the ‘us’ and the ‘them’ referred to the runners and the street-side cheerers. Nothing more – not politics or religion or regions or anything. That was very refreshing…
I am happy to describe our participation as less humiliating this time around as we actually managed to cross the finish line in just under 2 hours, a marked improvement on our last couple of attempts. For that, I mainly have to thank N, my 14-year-old ‘running’ buddy who was determined to break his last record (2hrs 10 mins) and arrive faster than our other competing friends.
I had never quite thought of the marathon as a competition – my goal was mainly to let my walking shoes just carry me over the finish line. The achievement was in the completion. Not the same for N, who would have welcomed a lane for visually impaired runners so that he could have actually run the marathon and arrived even quicker. Until that day, he got stuck with me. A challenge for both of us as N is now taller than me and could easily pull me ahead in his stride. At a couple of junctures (around the 7km mark and again after the 8th) that was actually our tactic – a little clear stretch would present itself in front of us and I would ask him to help me along. There were also a couple of other places where I was very grateful that Thurayya and Loulwa were also running with us, and could take over while I stopped by the side of the road for a breath. So you see, this young man had the energy of the three of us combined! If we hadn’t been so pleased that he pushed us to break the 2 hour mark, we may have been a little tougher on ourselves for being so out of shape.
But today, we will happily fall asleep with a medal hung on our bedposts – it doesn’t mark our time, but we’ll make sure everybody knows it!
I am happy to describe our participation as less humiliating this time around as we actually managed to cross the finish line in just under 2 hours, a marked improvement on our last couple of attempts. For that, I mainly have to thank N, my 14-year-old ‘running’ buddy who was determined to break his last record (2hrs 10 mins) and arrive faster than our other competing friends.
I had never quite thought of the marathon as a competition – my goal was mainly to let my walking shoes just carry me over the finish line. The achievement was in the completion. Not the same for N, who would have welcomed a lane for visually impaired runners so that he could have actually run the marathon and arrived even quicker. Until that day, he got stuck with me. A challenge for both of us as N is now taller than me and could easily pull me ahead in his stride. At a couple of junctures (around the 7km mark and again after the 8th) that was actually our tactic – a little clear stretch would present itself in front of us and I would ask him to help me along. There were also a couple of other places where I was very grateful that Thurayya and Loulwa were also running with us, and could take over while I stopped by the side of the road for a breath. So you see, this young man had the energy of the three of us combined! If we hadn’t been so pleased that he pushed us to break the 2 hour mark, we may have been a little tougher on ourselves for being so out of shape.
But today, we will happily fall asleep with a medal hung on our bedposts – it doesn’t mark our time, but we’ll make sure everybody knows it!
Monday, November 12, 2007
Comedy Break
I've been traveling recently - and there will be much to write about that - and in my 'planes, trains and automobiles' trek to not so distant European cities, there was at least this main observation that I simply had to share.
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