A seed falls somewhere in the middle of Nebraska. If it is a native plant it will likely thrive. If it is a new species being introduced it faces competition from the local flora and fauna. With any luck germination will occur. It will grow into something useful or at least aesthetically pleasing. It ages through adolescence and maturity, its natural life continuum. Another seed is produced and the cycle is repeated, our interloper’s progeny now has a strong foothold. It cross pollinates and develops new traits and ultimately may be unrecognized to the parent plant.
What’s this got to do with running? I sowed my seed in Nebraska in 2001. Nearly twenty years have passed. I survey my corner of the athletics community and am largely pleased by what I have wrought. Some offspring have flourished and provide sustenance. Some offer the pleasing aesthetic but are toxic on the inside. Some have nodes and galls on the outside but are filled with an inside beauty. Some are weeds, they too have their own place in the field. Some have failed. Sometimes you must start anew.
There are only a handful of people in Nebraska that devote themselves utterly to their craft. Those that toil daily, tending with the best intentions. Bringing life to barren landscapes, one of life’s most rewarding endeavors. Introducing or reintroducing the most basic concepts, taking things back to their roots. Hard work and a vision. Growing your own. Secure in the knowledge having adhered to strict self governing principles. Completely chemical free. Better than the rest. Simply the Best, Bar None.
Linda and I are fortunate to be in the country, away from the cities. Where we diagram and endeavor. To make our daily bread outside the din. To plant our seeds, to watch them grow. To work in the soil. Embracing the Good Mother.
This is how we are dealing with today. This bolsters our spirits and hopes for tomorrow.