The two weeks that fixed my life #1

Two weeks in October 2016 will go down in (my personal) history as The Weeks That Fixed My Life. They Changed Everything. The first was, of course, the week my darling Bulldogs Won The Big One and re-wrote my life story. The second was last week, when I had the Second Best Day Ever walking a half marathon and then four days later crashed through all my fears like an action hero through sugar glass.
 This article sums it all up beautifully I think - especially first few paragraphs
Sixty-two years of misery told every Bulldogs fan that the ball was going to bounce left. For so long, failure was a desert, and hope was a series of poisoned oases........ for more than half a century the team’s lone identity was failure...... And more than anything, the Bulldogs lost. They lost games, seasons and players, they lost the competition’s respect, and they lost hope.......... Why did Tony Liberatore’s match-sealing goal get called a behind in the ’97 preliminary final? Why did Chris Grant poll the most votes in the Brownlow medal that same year when he was ineligible? The same simple reason: because bad things happen to the Bulldogs.....
If you grow up in a family/micro culture where your team is your tribe, this stuff shapes you. You learn that loyalty is all you have. Success and delight are for other clubs. You get really, really sick of 'the glory of struggle', but there's nothing else to do. I don't think anyone gets 'good' at disappointment. You get good at being resigned, and forcedly lowering your expectations, and loving your club even though they're crap, and at being quietly BITTER.  It seeps into other areas of your life. I'm always quite surprised (and absolutely delighted) when things I've worked for go well. It's  difficult and scary to Dream Big - and then when you've had a rough-ish spell over a few years, you almost forget how.
On the converse, however, if you are clever, you learn to notice and be very grateful and happy about very little things, which is a wonderful tool for a happy life! So there you go!
And another thing: people feel sorry for you when you follow the Bulldogs. I utterly LOATHE being felt sorry for. It's one of the reasons it's been very hard to return to racing as a fat person. If you kindly tell me that the Bulldogs are your 'second team', I secretly hate you (probably).
I plan and prepare and work hard and maybe don't aim as high as I should, because I have never had any reason to expect things to happen just because I want them to. They. Never. Ever. Do.
UNTIL NOW!!!!

We are the Champions, my friend! WOOF WOOF WOOF!!
As Captain Bob Our Spiritual Advisor wrote : the Western Bulldogs are ...a family. But like all families there is pain, hurt and damage done from the hard years. Too many hard years. All of a sudden, so many years of heartbreak and longing...are behind us. The sunshine....has broken through the clouds, warming the faces of the clan.
Oh, how good it is to be in the sun!  This all sounds utterly stupid, I realise, and it is, but the world changed when we won. It changed forever! The siren went, and the huge roar vibrated through the mass of the MCG and through our bones, and somehow, like some corny fairytale movie, life was different for the tens of thousands of loyal, brave, not-very-hopeful, elated-beyond-measure diehard Doggies who'd dared to show up in case the unbelievable happened. Sometimes things do go our way. Who knew?
PS  I KNOW, I KNOW #firstworldproblem!!! But this is my blog and it's where I reflect on my little world.
*takes short break to watch the last three minutes of the game again*