We all have our favorite movie picks.  Some, we watch over and over… For me, a few on my list of all-time favorites includes The Call of the Wild, Crazy Heart, Darkest Hour, Eddie the Eagle, Miracle, and Yesman.

In addition, every once in a while, a movie comes along that redefines us. It may settle deep under our skin and challenge us to reexamine ourselves and the lives we are leading. Dead Poet’s Society is that movie for me. It reiterates a life message I need to hear again, and further strengthens my philosophy on life.

Even though one might consider this film “old,” I’m still invigorated and emboldened by the classic movie lines: “Don’t let your poems be ordinary / Gather your rosebuds while ye may / Strike out and find new ground / Find your own voice / Seize the day / Make your lives extraordinary  / We are food for worms’ lads…”

Fast forward to 2015.  My love Carrie and I used up a bunch of airline and hotel points to vacation in Hawaii – on the Big Island. We’d planned to do some hiking and night snorkeling with the Manta Rays, but other than that – we were going to enjoy the sun, relax and play it by ear.

When we arrived at the side road hotel entrance in Waikoloa, we found ourselves parked on the highway waiting to exit as a throng of athletic bodies wearing tight, bright outfits road past us on bikes. I noticed they all had gigantic black numbers marked on their shoulders and another on the back of one leg. After making it through the traffic, getting checked in and longing for an island beverage, we see what appeared to be the same pack of athletes running the resort.  Clearly, something was going on here…

Carrie explained to me, “I think we stumbled upon a triathlon.”  tri·ath·lon  noun, an athletic contest consisting of three different events, typically swimming, cycling, and long-distance running. I had no idea such a sport existed. That evening as we were celebrating our arrival, we watched those same athletes celebrate their victory – they had just finished the Lavaman Triathlon!…  I found myself secretly wishing that someday… maybe…  I could do this.  I wanted to feel the joy and excitement these athletes seemed to be having.  I wanted to be healthy, fit, vital and athletic too.

The truth is though, back then, this wish seemed like a far-off fantasy. I was massively overweight and did not swim. I proclaimed I couldn’t swim due to a shoulder injury. I hadn’t run even a block in years, and I didn’t own a bike.  But the idea stayed with me…  It grew and grew over time – building on the words I heard so long ago: Each and every one of us is one day going to stop breathing, turn cold and die.  Seize the day, make your life extraordinary. We are food for worms.

Fast forward, yet again, to 2018.  We’re back at the same hotel in Waikoloa.  Carrie and I are picking up our bikes from a cargo shipping container that traveled across the Pacific.  We’re soaking up the island warmth and the ocean air as we ready ourselves for tomorrow…  I have the number 1059 on my shoulder and calf. I am grinning, ear-to-ear.  We are triathletes.

There’s a scene in Dead Poet’s Society where John Keating (played by Robin Williams) says “O Captain, my Captain.” Do we all know where that comes from?… It’s from a poem by Walt Whitman about Mr. Abraham Lincoln. “Now in this class you can either call me Mr. Keating, or if you’re slightly more daring, O Captain my Captain.” Robin Williams is gone now and John Keating with him.  But I’d like to salute the entire cast and crew of the film by saying “O Captain my Captain.”