A glutton for punishment
This is a memory of chubby Mark.
This particular memory is probably of when he was about 12/13 years old.
Mark would come with Monica & I whenever he could to our youth group events at the Spanish church.
Mark, at this stage, seemed to be looking for trouble with me a lot. Not in a punkus kinda way but looking to tussle with me whenever he could. Unfortunately for him he was still chubby Mark. I noticed, however, that while he was a bit slow and a bit more apt to curl up in a screaming, squealing, laughing ball than to full out attack, he was quick to pop back up and come at me again as soon as I was done tossing him around.
This gluttony for punishment really came home when chubby Mark, always the intellectual, bonded with Jesus, another of the kids in the youth. Jesus was also a nerdkin and often spoke a booknerd language only Mark, out of the other kids, could understand.
Jesus, a rough & tumble kid from LA, was into MMA/UFC stuff. Having already taken a few classes he was a formidable opponent for the others.
I never worried about hurting Mark whenever wrestling with him myself because I knew 1) he could take it, 2) he seemed to soak up the pounding like a sponge, and 3) I was his brother, I knew I wasn't out to cause him harm.
Well, while Jesus was a good friend to Mark and a good guy overall, I was always pretty nervous about the 2 of them wrestling around because of how much more experienced Jesus was. I did my best not to interfere in spite of my big-brother/protective instinct kicking in because I didn't want to be over-protective and embarrass Mark when he was just messing around with a pal.
One day in particular I recall Mark and Jesus really going at it (in good fun of course) and I was very uncomfortable about it. Jesus had recently learned the choke hold in his classes and was pretty quick to whip it out when wrestling. This new move truly pushed my limits of restraint as I didn't want him to even use it in play with Mark. However, I held back from interfering. That day, the two of them really went at it, with chubby Mark, as usual, receiving most of the tossing around, and choke holding.
I recall them brawling up and down the 12 passenger church van we used that day for our youth event and nervously watching them in the rear-view mirror. After a particularly rough round I sighed with relief when Jesus let Mark go and I began to relax.
Mark had a different idea than relaxation. Rather than move back to his seat, Mark got up, caught his breath, and immediately dove back at Jesus for another go-around.
I stopped my cringing with a bolt of realization.
Chubby Mark, giggly, goofy, nerdy, slowish, soft, and sweet, had a warriors heart. The pain of a rough and friendly brawl hadn't fazed him a bit. Rather, it had energized him to greater action. He truly was a sponge, a glutton for punishment, and fed off of resistance and challenge. At that moment, in the midst of a rough and friendly brawl, I saw a glimpse of the kind of young man he was to become.
Mark was so determined. Mark was tough. Not always of body, (chubby Mark! lol) but always of mind. He did not give up and he did not waver. His drive, his committment to his goals, and his refusal to let a little pain slow him down inspired me that day.His drive, as we all know, extended to personal excellence, family excellence, and his spritual walk with God.
He inspires me now.
I yearn to tell him how amazing he was. I yearn to tell him how incredible it is that he is skinny and buff Mark now. I long to tell him how proud of him I am and that I love him.
I look forward to doing so in the not-too distant future.