Cycling Murrays

I'm not going to sleep well tonight. I'm worried about the Cycling Murrays. I went to Kearny's St. Patrick's Day parade today, as I always do. I like this working class town with strong soccer teams and a beautiful park I sometimes circle when I feel philosophical. The parade is lined with many flatbed trucks carrying citizens of all types who happen to be Irish. The sheer volume of combined sirens from a long line of firetrucks is quite impressive. I believe the amount of loud firetrucks in a parade  directly correlates to the amount of active testosterone in the community.
Every year the Cycling Murrays return, an entire family with an explosion of gray and blonde curly hair, riding unicycles around and around in a circle, arms outstretched. Grandma drives the truck behind them where they store their bikes. The parents don't move quite as fast now and no one does a handstand on the handlebars. The reason I'm concerned is this year I didn't see the children out there performing. Could they have quit the business? Gone to veterinarian school? Had breakdowns after falling off? I only see this act in Kearny and believe me I go to lots of parades. I guess after the holiday is over the whole family goes on unemployment or joins a small traveling circus. It does seem that unicycles are about as hip as pogo sticks, but people still cheer.
When I ponder the thousands of hours they spent perfecting their craft, I wonder if at times they look back and feel they've sacrificed too much. Maybe even wasted their lives going in circles. Good balance is like good posture--everyone wants it, but won't be crushed if they can't manage it.
But that's depressive thinking. Sort of like one questioning whether it's worth it spending hundreds of hours blogging, and we all know the answer to that. Right?