For many years, I have struggled to communicate why music and running are so similar to me. I have understanding for any person who looks at a symphony full of tuxedo wearing trained prodigies and fails to see why I compare them to dirt covered runners. But this past week presented me with the perfect parallel to communicate why these two VERY different groups are actually quite similar. The first time I played the trombone excerpt from Mahlers’ 5 th , I cried. I played it in the safety of the basement of my mother’s house while preparing for an audition when I was 16. When I played it again at a college interview, though I did not cry, the same emotion bubbled in my chest. When I was 21 years old, I had a cancer scare that challenged my whole world view. I was in college, earning a degree in music performance and two weeks after my initial diagnosis, I played the Barnes Third symphony for Wind Band, written to honor his son who died of cancer. I did not have a car at the time an
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Western States 100 Mile Endurance Run
The rifle blast was loud but the noise of it was completely overshadowed by the shouts of the 320 runners and equal or more friends, fans and loved ones all standing and counting in unison from ten down to one. My heart was racing and I could feel tears brimming in my eyes. “Three, Two, One! Blast!” The runners up front moved forward and up the steep first climb. Walking forward I them move for a few seconds thinking they looked like fireflies disappearing behind the dark and lumbering hill ahead. As those lights bounced out of sight, the trail before me cleared and it was my time to move. The runners before me began to thin out. I moved on loose legs and watched my breath erupt in clouds before my face. My feet hit pavement, then gravel, then dirt. The immediate and loudest pieces of cowbells rattling and people cheering began to fade. The landscape began to roll more steeply. I switched from a run into a jog then finally a fast power hike. The dirt from below was red,
Art
It was the sight of Orion’s Belt, shining through the thickness of Dallas’ light pollution that sent my mind spiraling. I was running and it was late. The only sounds in the dim neighborhoods were my shoes hitting the pavement, my rhythmic breathing, and the occasional roll of a passing car or leashed dog with owner. I thought back to a day a few years ago when my friend Christina took me to her Uncle’s house. She is a long time friend who moved from Dallas to Austin and was in town to visit family. I mentioned I wanted to see her so she invited me to visit her Uncles with her. I had met these Uncles a couple times while accompanying my friend to various affairs and knew they were artists so I was excited to visit their home, which as Christina described was a house-sized exhibit for their art. Her assessment was accurate and as I stared at the various pieces of cartoonish self portraits and shock arts of characters they created I was in awe. We all shared a salad
Western States Application Essay
I was recently given the honor to represent the Active Joe as an ambassador and run in the 2019 Western States Endurance Run. As I continue to wrap my head around this unbelievable opportunity, I wanted to share the essay I submitted with my application to run for this amazing brand in this amazing race: I am an underdog. I am an underdog with a wide smile, gusto and a positive attitude, but for all my optimism and beatitudes, I toe the line of many races I am not expected to finish. I hit walls, plow into obstacles and often find myself in over my head. In the past year, I married the love of my life and began my full-time adventure into parenting. When I first met my two new bonus kids they emptied a soda can on my head and tried to push me out of a moving vehicle. I sat many a nights with my now wife, Jessy, talking about integrating our family and she often looked at me with trepidation, “Are you sure you’re ready?” Now they call me “Kel Kel” and we can not imagi