Even though I’m retired, I still have a drive within me to succeed, or at least finish. As an adoptee, I’m not sure if it was a learned characteristic or genetic in nature? Nonetheless, it’s an overpowering desire to see the end result or have the final answer. Many times, it’s at the expense of enjoying the moment, since my mind is so focused on the finish line. I believe this is why I’m seeking closure on the identity of my birth parents. It’s not that I need them, I just want to know without question who they are? It’s a quest that began with the passing of my parents four years ago, but had been in the back of my mind for a long time. I’m not sure what it will resolve if I ever get these answers, but I’m driven to the solution, and remain convinced that I won’t be truly happy until I do.

As I examine this “just-to-be-done-gene,” it’s interesting that I’ve picked a running competition that never ends as part of my everyday activities. I’ve run every morning now for 3,552 consecutive days, with NO end in sight. With this particular challenge, it only can end in misfortune – injury or death. Age and attrition will definitely be a factor, as current placeholder #787 on the “U.S.A. Active Running Streak List” has completed 667 consecutive days. You have to have completed at least 365 to even be added to the list. There are currently 65 runners of my age of 67 or older on this spread sheet (8.2%). 52 of these older runners are ahead of my #203 position, and I can only pass them if they falter. They use the term “Road Kill” to mark each runner passed in the Hood to Coast Relay, and proudly post these numbers on their vans during the race. It better applies to streak running, where they will have to literally kill me to pass me!

I can’t really say that I enjoy these daily runs, since I focus so intensely on just getting it over with each day. “Just to be Done” is the title of a recent poem, describing this curse. (See Post#581). I found the same desire with yesterday’s kayaking adventure. I seemed so possessed to get two hours of paddling over-with that for the most part I missed the beauty around me. As I mentioned to my friend, I could never be regular at this because of all the preparation time. With running, I often just have to slip on a pair of shorts and my shoes to be underway. With the kayaks, we had to load them into a pick-up truck, drive them to an access ramp, put on life vests, and adjust the seat & back support, – all just to get started. This is where I picked up a distinct difference between my friend and I. He considered all the preparation part of the adventure and began to enjoy the experience long before we ever got in the water. I considered it a hassle. He showed his patience, while I showed my “just-to-be-done-gene.” I also couldn’t wait to get back on shore again, after a little struggle with motion sickness as we bobbed through the waves, and the strain on my lower back, stomach muscles, and thighs. They were different muscles that I use in running every day, and I was concerned that any soreness would lead to a more difficult run the next day. It’s not like it is painful in either sport, but it’s uncomfortable enough to wish it behind me. I did take a moment to observe a pair of bald eagles, and to enjoy a view that I would have never experienced on shore. However, I spent most of my time counting strokes, just as I count steps when running. What fun is that?

When we got back to the dock in our kayaks, he took us on an extra loop through rougher water, while I was just done. I had another item to cross off my list of “67 Things to Do Before I’m 68.” (See Post #642). I think I’ve now gotten 8 completed, with many of them a weekly commitment. See, I’m already anxious to get this list done and out of the way, but I set it up so I couldn’t, knowing my end-driven tendencies. It should be more appropriately titled, “67 Things to Get Done Before I’m 68.” To make this outdoor experience even more memorable, I took a bit of a tumble on some loose gravel. I was carefully climbing down from the bed of the pick-up truck and went to drop the remaining foot or so to the ground. As soon as I landed, my legs gave out and I got some pretty good scrapes on my legs and arms. Fortunately, I was able to keep from falling face-first, so there were few visible marks. I apparently did not have my land legs when I hit the ground, so I’ll have to be more careful next time. This is why the outdoors and I don’t necessarily get along.

Yes, there will probably be a next time. My friend’s house is right on Netarts Bay, and I’m sure he will talk me into another day on the water. Unlike me, my dogs always enjoy an outing, so they will always be glad to accompany me to the Coast. They got to spend time with their big-dog-cousins after a long ride in the car, had some back-yard freedom, and went for a walk on the beach. For them, condo-life is not as enjoyable as it is for their lazy “father,” however, they are both adoptees, like me.  As for kayaking, all I can think of is the 1958 Coasters hit, “Yakety Yak, Don’t Talk Back.”  I just feel like the word “Kayak,” should be part of the lyrics coupled with a “Three Stooges” cackle…Kayak-ety- Yak, Don’t Talk Back…Yak…Yak…Yak…Yuk…Yuk…Yuk. It was just something silly that occupied my mind between counting strokes and looking forward to the end of paddling. It’s a frustrating trait that I really don’t know who to blame for not giving me patience, the ability to savor, and the enjoyment of doing. Instead, I just want to get it over with and cross it off my list.