Leaving work and after my teleconference call that I had with my Alzheimer's team, which they had met Bill Rodgers, I was deciding if I had wanted to run or not.First thing is first though. Went to Trader Joes to pick up a few items for the captians meeting that will happen tomorrow night...so, that was also a factor involved. I had my glasses on, felt exhausted from work and was definitely leaning towards no...
BUT, then came the factoring point of when will I get my base training then, since tomorrow night I will be missing the longer portion of my long base run.
So, it was a warm night, but it was 9 o clock by the time I got home. I quickly ate a banana and changed. 9:22...out the door. Wow, only in NYC can you leave the door at that hour and not eat dinner yet. Well, maybe you would say, only I would be doing that...and be crazy to do that as well.
As I was leaving my apartment building, I had forgotten my reflector and I'd tag...opps! IKm not going back for it. But as I left the front doors, it was rather frightening of what I was thinking.
"what if this was your last run?" Do you run every run like it was your very last?
As I ran some more and got to the east side, I thought more and more about the question from Running Lounge on what defines you as a "runner" it could be at any moment, any item purchased and any thought.
I thought a bit, thinking would it be a material item or would it be an experience, a joy? A pure release?
I would say, my first moment in actually feeling that I was a runner would be when a runner gets their first personal goal. Running is all about personal goals. Yes, it is nice to beat someone in a race. It is nice when you have that cometition, since we all have that competitive edge, but it's one joy when they reach their own goal in running. May it be at any distance or any kind of exercise. May it only be for 5 minutes of running on the tred mill, you have accomplished your goal...that's when you feel like you are a runner.
Anyways, moving on...as I moved at an easy 7:30 pace, I figured to go do an "easy" 10 miles. Now, this is my usual friday day lop of running at the bottom of manhattan.
The great part about running at night is seeing the Manhattan Bridge & Brooklyn Bridge with all the glistening lights and true beauty. Don't get me wrong, the moon light shimmering on the hudson and east side was amazing as well. Just pure true beauty and tranquility.
I round out the Fulton Fishmarket, South Street Seaport, and Staten Island Ferry. Halfway point...
Time to crank up the "easy" 7:30 to. sub 7 pace...let's see how quick I can go...but still maintain a good distance. I kept my head focused on the lights that alligned the boardwalk. The pure beauty, it was nice and cool as the temperature was definitely not an issue. Maintain form, maintain focus. I wanted to see the easibility for this weekend and still keep in mind the recovery factor.
Ok...feeling good at the moment, I had to resist the piers as they were tempting me. Maintain. Composure.
Ok...breath was definitely taking over. Legs felt fine. Maintain pace. Glancing at my watch as it kept pace. Oh man...faultering...feeling it. Mind...over matter...
I ended up striding and maintaining a good pace. Once I left the boardwalk on the west side, I knew one of my faulters in reaching that SUB 6:53 pace in a marathon...MY MIND. It breaks down, faulters and thinks thoughts of failure.
Dancing in the Rain: Another of our Inspirational Life Stories
It was a normal, busy morning, about 8:30 when, George, an elderly gentleman, well into his 80's, arrived at Queen Alexandra Hospital, Cosham, England, to have stitches removed from his thumb.
George told me that he was in a hurry as he had an appointment at 9:15 am. I weighed him and took his blood pressure and invited him take a seat in the waiting area, knowing it would be over an hour before someone would be able to see him. I saw him looking at his watch and decided, since I was not busy with another patient, I would evaluate his wound. On examination, it was well healed, so I talked to one of the Doctors, got the needed supplies to remove his sutures and redress his wound.
While taking care of his wound, I asked George if he had another doctor's appointment this morning, as he was in such a hurry. George told me no, but that he needed to go to St Christopher’s Nursing Home to eat breakfast with his wife. I inquired as to her health. He told me that she had been there for a while and that she suffered from Alzheimer's disease.
As we talked, I asked if she would be upset if he was a little late. George replied that she no longer knew who he was and that she had not recognized him in five years.
I was surprised, and asked him, 'And you still go every morning, even though she doesn't know who you are?'
He smiled as he patted my hand and said, 'She doesn't know me, but I still know who she is.'
I had to hold back tears as George left, I had goose bumps on my arm, and thought, 'That is the kind of love I want in my life.' True love is neither physical, nor romantic. True love is an acceptance of all that is, has been, will be, And will not be.
The happiest people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the best of everything they have. 'Life isn't about how to survive the storm but how to Dance in the Rain.'