on the iPod: "empire state of mind" -- Jay Z
In their brisk mornings, breezy afternoons, and cool evenings, fall days are nothing short of the perfect opportunity to reflect on all that makes life such a delicate and rewarding experience. Add to the mix an array of trees that are turning from green to multiple shades of red and orange and it becomes next to impossible to not understand true beauty. I love the season because it's a tender reminder that our time is finite and our seasons are continually changing. It's a perfect chance to run.
The New York City Marathon is next weekend and, despite the leaves falling and the pumpkins harvesting and the breezes blowing, i'm still apprehensive about running the race. Even with the months of training, previous finishes, and unbelievable support from the great people in my life, i'm still unsure. I remind myself to live in the moment, focus on blessings, and to not allow anxious thoughts to distract me, but that only works part of the time. I've spent the last few days with a knot in my stomach as I think about running 26.2 miles in the greatest city in the world. And therein lies the rub: the sheer enormity of what it will take to lace up with 48,000 runners from all over the world and traverse the five boroughs on my way to the finish line in Manhattan's Central Park is hard to fathom.
There won't be much sleep this week, as dreams will be frequent and centered on the race. My otherwise notoriously strong appetite will wane, but i'll continue to eat chocolate in celebration of Halloween on Thursday. I'll be distracted at work and my students will probably notice but choose to not say anything. The packing list will be written tomorrow then set aside like the consummate procrastinator that I am. And i'll check the Weather Channel app on my phone at least 5 times a day, hoping for the sunshine instead of rain. I'll do a pretty good job of holding it together on the outside, but internally i'll be a mess. I know it.
The weekend will start with an early flight out on Friday, and as soon as I make it to the airport things will change a bit, as the excitement of the weekend will be palatable for the first time. We'll go to the expo when we land in the city, and that in and of itself will be an experience, as throngs of runners will converge to pick up bibs and gear. There will be sight-seeing, maybe a walk down to Central Park, and some great meals in local restaurants, but I won't be able to shake that pit in my stomach, so instead i'll just try to manage it.
The night before I will meticulously lay out my shirt, shorts and running shoes on the desk of a room in the Marriot Marquis Times Square, as the Broadway lights blink and swirl through the window far down below. I'll pin my bib to the shirt, attach the d-tag to my shoe, and place my iPod and energy gels next to the socks that I will wear. I will fold a twenty dollar bill in the pocket. Nothing will be left to chance.
Race morning will start early with coffee, gatorade, and peanut butter on a toasted english muffin. The nerves will have changed to sort of a surreal, numb feeling as we board the buses at the New York Public Library for a motorcoach ride to the starting line on Staten Island. By this time I won't be able to talk much without getting overwhelmed, so i'll live in my head for the next few hours waiting with fellow runners from all over the world who have come together for one singular event. If I close my eyes, I can feel the feeling now. I can't say that it's necessarily good.
But as soon I take those first few steps across the starting line, please know this: everything. will. change.
Anxiety and nerves will be swept away by surges of adrenaline. The pit in my stomach? Gone. The furrowed brow and concerned mouth, so indicative of my introversion, will give way to a smile bigger than all of Manhattan. It will hard to hold back tears as I will finally be doing what I'm supposed to do. I'll be running a marathon.
I can't explain why I feel so compelled to run or just exactly how much I love doing so, and there's a part of me that doesn't want to even try. I want to keep it for myself and enjoy it alone, hoping instead that my passion for running is evident in other ways. I want it to be my thing, and that's what it is. For a few different reasons, I never really fully found myself until the day that I ran, and I know that every day from here on out can only be better than the day before, because there will always be another morning to run, another trail to find, another race to finish. I love running. I love running marathons. And feel like the luckiest guy on the planet to get to do it. But regardless the distance, the city, the season, or any other circumstance, there is nothing that makes me feel more whole than lacing up and doing so.
Lastly, I want to express my most sincere love for the people in my life: great friends, the best teachers in the whole world, and, of course, my family. There's not a single day that goes by that I don't appreciate the love that is shown me in myriad and countless ways. Know that you'll be with me in every mile of NYC and that you always are. You are with me every single time that I run.
Run.
No comments:
Post a Comment