I think there are too many times we ask “Why?” in situations when we really should be asking “Why not?”
Especially when it comes to matters of the heart.
Last year, on a whim (and because I had experienced a pretty heartbreaking moment the night before), I bought a 10-game pack of season tickets to the Rangers games with my friend Amanda. Despite the financial setback, it actually turned out to be one of my best decisions of 2016. Our friend Val was part of our game-going crew, too, and we had a blast going to each game. Amanda and I even created a paper chain at work to countdown until Opening Day, and we took daily pictures of us ripping off the links and throwing them to the ground.
Bless those of you who endured that time with us and then celebrated when we finally reached the ballpark on the day for which we’d been waiting for so long.
It was worth it, too. Opening Day that year was one I will always remember for so many reasons, and I must say that I was pretty sad this year when it rolled around, and we weren’t there. I also felt like it snuck up on us—when we had the countdown, it felt like it took forever to get there.

I guess that’s how life goes sometimes: You wait and wait and wait for something for so long that it feels like it’s never actually going to happen. But then if you’re not really anticipating it very much, it’s as if it gets there as fast as lightning.
Even though there were times the season seemed ridiculously long, the drive seemed way too far, the nights seemed to last forever (especially the games on work nights), and the heat felt more powerful than ever, I miss being in Section 3. I miss convincing the players in the opposing team’s bullpen to throw gum up to me. I miss seeing Mark and Jeannie, who sat behind us each game. I miss persuading the parking attendants to let us park for free. I miss Dylan the pedicab guy always trying to get us to be lazy and not walk. I miss the grouchy guy who plays the saxophone at the street corner.
And part of me just feels like I’m missing out on so much.
Honestly, it’s probably for the best that we didn’t buy the season tickets this year. Val lives in a different part of the state now, Amanda recently bought a house, and I probably owe the hospital more money than a house purchase. But I’m thankful we did it that one season—now we’ll never have to wonder what it would be like to be season ticket holders, and we made some really great memories that year.
I wish I could say that about every area of my life.
I think there have been a lot of times I’ve missed out on some potentially incredible opportunities simply because I haven’t taken chances. I’ve mentioned many times before that I used to be a pretty big pansy when it came to letting guys know how I felt. There was a guy I cared about many years ago, and I never did anything about it. Whenever I was around him, I pretended that I was comfortable with us being friends and nothing more. You know what happened? Nothing. We stayed friends for a while and eventually drifted apart, and he started new and exciting chapters in his life without me.
More so lately, I’ve tried to be better about ignoring the risk factor in this regard. Even though it recently became a prolonged situation that resulted in a broken heart, I’m glad I wasn’t as silent as I used to be. I guess it’s better to know than always wonder what would have happened if you had taken a chance.
Because you don’t want to miss out on something that could have changed your life for the better.
I’ve currently been feeling like I’ve been missing out on a lot of things—whether it’s racing, spending time with people, the sunshine, or even sleep. But then I realized that I’m perfectly capable of changing my circumstances by being bold enough to take some chances.
No, my running hasn’t been that strong lately (thanks, kidney), but I’m on the mend now and can begin working toward racing again. I have to be willing to step on the line, even if it means it won’t be my fastest race, though.
And I have to take chances with people. It’s not always the easiest thing to do to reach out to people or sacrifice time when you could be doing a million other things so that you can spend time with the people you want around you. You make time for the things you want to make time for in life—and that can often mean taking leaps of faith for the sake of others.
Sometimes when I’m at work, I look outside and feel like I’m missing out on so much sunshine (I LOVE being outside when it’s sunny out). But I get off work when it’s still light out, so there’s plenty of time for me to be able to enjoy the daylight. Lately, I’ve been going on walks after work more regularly so that I can be outside, and doing so has been very refreshing. It sometimes takes me out of my comfort zone because I’m a very busy person, so it’s often challenging to set aside time simply to enjoy disconnecting from everything, putting in my headphones, and taking an extended moment to breathe.
Sleep isn’t something I want to miss out on, but I definitely need more of it. I’ve been making more concerted efforts to get more sleep, but it’s a bit difficult at times. However, I know that if I seize the opportunity to take a nap or go to bed earlier—even if it means missing out on time I could have been doing something productive—it will benefit me in the long run.
I truly believe chances are meant to be taken. I think boldness is for everyone. Why wonder what could have been when you could have listened to your heart and not your head? I think we overthink things sometimes when we really should simply go with our instincts.
Because you don’t want to miss out on something that could have changed your life for the better.