Marathoning is a metaphor for life, so there are a lot of parallels you can draw. I tell people to follow your dream, follow your heart, follow your passion, run your own race and believe in yourself. I think anybody who wants to succeed has to have passion. My love for this sport, you can't instill it in someone else.
I'm always trying to understand who I want to be, what I want, what I dream of. When I was a kid, I was really worried that my parents were going to bring me back to the orphanage. I was scared of tomorrow, scared that I was going to be abandoned again. So I tried to enjoy every minute of my life because maybe tomorrow wasn't going to happen. I think I live the same way today: scared of tomorrow. For someone who is considered a party boy, a guy who just has fun and drinks champagne, I'm really tortured.
Music is the highest art form. I still think that. I wish I was really talented in music because then I would be doing it. I felt that I could write a decent song, but it was a big struggle. It took a lot of time and effort for me, whereas a lot of my peers and other people seemed to have a much easier relationship to it. But I profoundly love music, and I still dream that I might one day try to write some new songs and record something - just for myself, to see what would happen.
They say for every light on Broadway there is a broken heart, an unrealized dream. And that’s the same in any profession. So you have to want it more than anyone else, and you have to be your own champion, be your own superstar, blaze your own path, say yes to opportunity, follow your instincts, be eager, and passionate, keep learning, nurture your real, lasting relationships, don’t be a jerk, and free your imagination so you can become all that you want to be.
To say that a schlemiel is a luckless person is to touch only the negative side. It is the schlemiel's avocation and profession to miss out on things, to muff opportunities, to be persistently, organically, preposterously and ingeniously out of place. A hungry schlemiel dreams of a plate of hot soup, and hasn't a spoon.