I woke up this morning to go watch my friend Nikki run her fourth marathon. It was a beautiful fall morning... cool in the shade and warm in the sun. I stood on 1st Ave. at 102 Street awaiting her arrival. She would be wearing a bright orange tank top with black on the bottom. She had already done the math for me of where she would be at each mile marker. So I stood and watched. I watched all the people who were running: People with different body types, skin colors, nationalities, some who didn't even have access to their legs, young and old. It was a sea of people running together... seemingly so different.
It always brings tears to my eyes to watch the determination in their eyes, late in the marathon. I began watching at mile 18.5. Some people by this point were walking, some stopped and walked off 1st Ave., but most just kept running. And I thought of the reasons these people were running. How many of them just wanted to prove to themselves that they could do it?
At one point I over heard a young girl telling an older man that he "looked strong". She was running beside him and sounding as convincing as ever. I had seen the older man's face. He looked exhausted to me... but she reassured the both of us. I don't know if she knew the guy, but I do know she was giving needed support. I felt lucky to have over heard the exchange.
Lately I've been feeling a little unhappy.
There's a great gigantic poster in Columbus Circle. It's this older man running a marathon, and it reads "The Race ends, The road never does."
So I reassure myself... because like each person who runs a marathon... the power to cross the finish line is inside us. We can't always predict what condition we'll be in when we get there.
Happiness is not a finish line. I keep exploring. I keep getting older. And hopefully I get a little wiser as well.
It always brings tears to my eyes to watch the determination in their eyes, late in the marathon. I began watching at mile 18.5. Some people by this point were walking, some stopped and walked off 1st Ave., but most just kept running. And I thought of the reasons these people were running. How many of them just wanted to prove to themselves that they could do it?
At one point I over heard a young girl telling an older man that he "looked strong". She was running beside him and sounding as convincing as ever. I had seen the older man's face. He looked exhausted to me... but she reassured the both of us. I don't know if she knew the guy, but I do know she was giving needed support. I felt lucky to have over heard the exchange.
Lately I've been feeling a little unhappy.
There's a great gigantic poster in Columbus Circle. It's this older man running a marathon, and it reads "The Race ends, The road never does."
So I reassure myself... because like each person who runs a marathon... the power to cross the finish line is inside us. We can't always predict what condition we'll be in when we get there.
Happiness is not a finish line. I keep exploring. I keep getting older. And hopefully I get a little wiser as well.
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