Sunday, February 1, 2015

The Finish

If you haven't gathered by now, I'm from Seattle. Born and raised, and the furthest I've ever lived from this remarkable city is when I spent four years 90 miles north in Bellingham while earning my degree.

I love everything about this place. I love our seasons, I love the relentless rain, I love puddles that remind me why TOMS are not intelligent Seattleite shoes from October through April. I love the brilliant green of everything here, the first thing out-of-towners usually comment on. I love our craft breweries, our naked Solstice parades. I love how everyone comes outside with sun-starved skin and blinking eyes the first time the clouds clear in early spring.

I love how whenever I travel to faraway places, I soak it in and appreciate each experience... and am still so so happy to be home once my plane lands at Seatac Airport.

I also love our Seahawks.

Now, there will always be people with different perspectives; that comes with every scenario (except for Damon vs. Stefan Salvatore... everyone knows it's all about Damon). Last year, for the most part, we were a Cinderella story. A team filled with free agents, late-in-the-draft picks, and so many young players... we were not expected to excel. Our team had been to the Super Bowl once before in 2005, and lost pretty soundly to the Colts.

In 2014, under the leadership of Pete Carroll and the unwavering trust of Russell Wilson, we rocked that Lombardi Trophy all the way back to Seatown. The town was lit up. Schools were 1/4 to 1/3 empty, with kids being pulled from school to go celebrate at the Super Bowl Parade. We wore our jerseys on staff each Friday for the rest of the school year. Our town had experienced some pretty noticeable success for the first time in a long time, and we were loving it.

This year, we were jazzed. We had a team of amazing athletes, and an outstanding season.

We still lost the Super Bowl. Despite microphones being immediately shoved in the faces of our players, for the most part they were complimentary of the Patriots, excited to have been a part of the huge event, and looking forward to next season. Still, there was a huge sense of loss for them. For all of us watching the game with our Sherman jerseys and Hawktails in hand.

So that got me thinking... is there an equivalent in running? In the Super Bowl, teams have (within reason) a pretty even shot at taking home the trophy. In the Boston Marathon, star athletes have a much smaller margin. Is the agony the same?

What do you think?

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