passion of the few

I recently read a book by Shari Caudron called Who Are You People? A Personal Journey into the Heart of Fanatical Passion in America, which is somewhat of a long title, but trust me, it deserves it. I had been searching for this book ever since NPR did a feature story about it sometime last August. For some reason though, no book store on Long Island or in NYC seemed to carry it. So a few weeks ago, I did what I probably should have done in the first place: I checked the library. To my terrific surprise, that miserable excuse for a small book collection called the Island Trees Public Library had it on its dusty old shelves.

Who Are You People is basically the author's journey across America documenting people and the things that that crazy about. She attends a Barbie Lovers Convention in California, A Fly Fishing Tournament in Montana, a Star Trek Convention(of course) Pigeon Races in the Bronx, and many other interesting places where people doing what they love to do, all in search of her finding what it is that she is really passionate about.

While I was reading this book, I found myself thinking to myself what is it that I am actually passionate about? Sure, I have many interests, but what is that I am really really passionate about?

At first I thought it might be Pez. I have a pretty stellar Pez collection (370 dispensers), some shirts, a Pez tie, and a few Pez posters, but in comparison to other Pez collectors (Pezheads), my collection is weak. And it's not like I set aside money from my paychecks to go out and buy Pez (not any more at least). If I happen to see a piece that I am missing, sure I pick it up, but I wouldn't consider myself an actual passionate Pezhead.

My next thought was to consider the sports teams that I support. My favorite team of any sport in the world is the New York Islanders. I follow them every day, I have a few jerseys, and go to a few games per season. Does that make me a fan? Sure. Does it make me fanatical? I don't think so. Your not gonna find me standing on line in sub zero temperatures to get tickets or anything..Fanatics would be there though.

As I struggled to come up with something, I became concerned that I was wandering through life with nothing that I could say I was in love with. Then, in a moment that I have since called "the epiphany," I found out exactly what it was that I was passionate about.

On Sunday Night, I played in a small pick up game of Ultimate Frisbee, which is an amazing game, but it's not what I would call my passion. After the game, I was hopping a fence to get back to my car, and in a real freak accident, I rolled my ankle really bad off the curb. I was in intense pain. If I had any sort of health insurance, I surely would have gone and gotten it x-rayed. When I woke up Monday morning, I was barely able to walk. I called in sick to work that day, and realized that if I can barely walk, how was I going to be able to go on a 7 mile run that night? I became almost depressed, and then I got to thinking.. Running is something that I pretty much do 6 days a week, I do it for fun, I do it to get my mind off of other stuff, it is something that I truly love to do. And it's kind of funny, because maybe 18 months ago, you couldn't pay me to run, but now I've run a full marathon, a few half marathons, and countless other races. This whole week I have been pretty much just taking it easy and resting my ankle up, and it's honestly been a really rough week for me. We had some amazing weather this week, and for me to be sitting inside with my foot elevated and wrapped with ice, it was killer.

I guess sometimes it takes something negative to happen to make you realize something positive. Up until this past week, running has just been something that I do when I get home from work or school or whatever. I suppose I even took it for granted. But when something you like is taken away from you, its then that you realize that you might be in love.