to give thanks

Marathon Sunday is rapidly approaching and I have been very reflective lately. Training for the race is in some regards more mental than physical. I've had a rough go of it lately and it's taken a toll on my concentration and confidence-- both of which are essential for running effectively.

I am blessed with countless friends and family members who have given me love and support. But there are five very special fellow runners who, whether they know it or not, have consistently lifted me out of a dark place and who I think of when I need inspiration to run. So I decided to take them with me on the 26.2 mile journey I'll tackle on 10-10-10.

The pictures above show a heart logo that I crafted to wear on my running shirt on race day. On the back of the logo, I've listed these five amazing individuals. Along with their names, I mention the attributes that I think of most often in association with that person. In this small way, I hope to honor them for all that they've given me. In the week before the race, I plan on sending each of them a personal e-mail to better put into words my feelings about what they mean to me and my running.

Thank you, Bonnie, Sara, Sue, Teresa and Vince. I look forward to running with you.

there goes the neighborhood

Our annual townhouse association picnic is always a bit like falling through the rabbit hole. The people, the food and the conversations are always a bit unusual. Here are some snippets:

* A neighbor sat down next to me and I asked, "how are you?" What followed was a 20-minute discourse about her wicked case of the shingles as another neighbor lifted his shirt to show scars from his case of the shingles; then it somehow turned into a conversation about bowel obstruction.

* The DJ was a little girl about 6 years old who manned a portable CD player. When was the last time you heard the song "Purple People Eater"? For me, tonight.

* There were no potato chips. How is it possible that no one brought potato chips to a picnic?!? But we had about 4 different types of bratwurst. Go figure.

* The fact that we live very near a university really hit home to me when a neighbor (an ex-professor) said to me, "you haven't lived until you understand thermodynamics." Hmmm... guess I'm not alive.

* In my opinion, the best dish was not the burgers or potato salad or cole slaw or cupcakes or watermelon.... it was some unusual Asian dish that looked like spaghetti and had a real kick to it.

hearts wide open

It's really easy for me to feel despair about the state of the world today. All around are examples of humankind's inhumanity. A preacher advocating the burning of the Quran to "honor" 9/11. A superstar athlete lying to his wife in order to feed his ego with a sequence of women. A father calling his child a "sissy" because the kid wouldn't go on a ride at Great America. My own feelings of impatience and self-pity.

Then every so often I see something unbelievably kind. Yesterday we went to the 7th Heaven concert at Castaways on North Avenue Beach. The venue is a rooftop patio high above the lakefront. It's accessed by a staircase or an elevator (although the elevator was out of service yesterday). During the show, two members of the band (Keith Semple and Nick Cox) heard of a girl in a wheelchair and her friends who wanted to see the show but couldn't because of the elevator issues. Instead, they were stationed on the path below, happy to just listen to the music.

Before one of the final songs, they acknowledged "Sara" and said they wanted to dedicate the next song to her. They exhorted the crowd to follow them as they moved the show to a lower patio area-- an area in the direct line of sight of the wheelchair-bound girl and her group on the beach.

The radiant joy on her face as Keith and Nick sang to her is something I'll remember for a very long time. It was a classy, very emotional moment. As I looked at the other fans around me, there were plenty of teary eyes. I was struck by how such a simple gesture from two very fortunate but humble men had the power to transform a girl's afternoon into something special. Truly amazing.

out of the darkness

Week 2 of mentoring is drawing to a close. My student and I talk often and e-mail even more and I'm starting to form a solid bond with her. She's joyful and takes pleasure in simple things, such as a board game and fried chicken with some friends. She has deep values and a sense of direction for the future and I revel in that.

She recently celebrated her birthday and I sent her an online musical card. Took me all of five minutes. It's something I do very often for various friends and acquaintances and I get just as many in return. It's a small thing, really, not worthy of much notice. So I was totally unprepared and completely blown away by her e-mail response to it:

Thank you soooooo much for that birthday greet card i loved it. I was dancing to the music and smiling when the computer screen said click here!!!! That was awesome i showed alot of the students, and Mr. W he said thats cool no one sent him one i think he's very jealous. If you could see my face i would sooooo be smiling right now but once again thank you from the bottom of my heart....

I can't remember a paycheck ever feeling that good to me.

But today I got word that yet another young person affiliated with Gage Park High School has lost his life to gunfire on the violent streets of the inner city. Although I always feel sadness at the tragic loss of someone who has barely had time to live, I admit that now it is more profound for me. These are the streets that my student has to navigate every day. These are the funerals she attends with way too much regularity for a 16-year-old.

Sobering. Makes me very sad.