Six PM, very rainy and somewhat cold. I’m sitting in the lobby in Lincoln Center, NYC. I was looking for a place to get out of the rain and get warm, found it here, and here I sit, surrounded by strangers, of what appear to be many walks of life, which has been pretty consistent all week. I was thinking earlier that I’ve probably seen more people in the last seven days than in the prior one hundred and six, and they all have a story. I’ve become quite fascinated by other peoples’ stories, now that I’m learning to just shut up and listen. I would love to spend just a few minutes with every one of these peeps, find out who they are, where they came from, why they’re here, what makes them happy. Sadly, I don’t think I could do that right now, right here. All of these people are doing something, including sleeping in a couple of cases. Many are on their laptops, perhaps working or getting ready for Cyber-Monday, who knows. Some will have to take what may be all their belongings and find a new shelter for the night. A couple are reading, and handful are on their phones. They all look quite content on this Sunday evening, as am I.
This has been a really interesting week, in many ways. I doubt I could find a place with more contrast to where I’ve been since August. It didn’t take long to notice but hit me hard when I went down the bright stainless-steel escalator into the subway. and then rode it for a few minutes, four miles, or an hour and fifteen minutes in walk-to-the-park time, The noise, the buildings, the people, the over-choice of everything. All is very different here, and this week in the city has been very different from all the times I’ve been here before. I’m much more comfortable. I smile at people regardless. I say please, even though it’s perhaps not expected, and people have been really nice. I’ve asked myself several times this week who it is that has changed. Is it the 1.63 million people in Manhattan or is it I? I’ll let you know :)
A week ago today, day one AB (after-backpack), it took me quite a while to figure out where I was when I woke up. And it was strange waking up without a different destination in sight. So, what to do? I went for a walk, a walk to the park that was about 5 blocks to the west of where I was staying - thank you James for your hospitality. It felt good to walk without the weight on my hips. The pressure was starting to hurt a bit, but fortunately with no lasting effects. Felt great to walk, more like a stroll, and we gravitated to, yep, Strawberry Fields. I had a chance to talk to Baron once again and thank him for singing Imagine for me the day before. He did mention that he sang it four times during his two-hour gig, but that didn’t matter - the one he sang at about 2:45 was mine. Nice day walking around the city, quite the contrast.
More walking for the next few days - I didn’t log, didn't need or want to, it was just nice to move, keep moving, as I weaned myself off the daily distances. I probably ended up walking about 90 miles this past week, but it’s different ambling than actually having a destination. The park was beautiful all week, still a lot of foliage and nice and crisp, bordering on cold. It was quite a luxury to spend this much time in NY without a schedule, and I met with several friends during the week, Alex the mugger, Marcy the writer, Larry the singer from high school, Nathan and Josh, the native boys. Great fun all around. I did miss my fields and green, but Central Park did a nice job with its lawns and trees, most of which were full when I arrived, bare when I left. Thx.
On one particular afternoon I was walking along Central Park South, and rewound back to two prior visits, one about 20 years ago, the other in October of 2016. Both visits coincided with the NY Marathon. The first time we ambled up to the finish line a couple of hours after the elite runners had crossed and watched the “normal” runners come across the line. Among them was an older guy with a t-shirt on which, in handwritten letters, read “one kidney, one heart”. He didn’t need to tell anyone he was also walking with one prosthetic leg, from about mid-thigh down, and here he was finishing a marathon. Back then the thought of my finishing a marathon was an impossibility. Seventeen years later, I found myself once again on Central Park South, this time starting off with watching the wheelchair marathoners come up and into the park, and it completely humbled me. Here I had two perfectly good legs and a body that still worked, crippled only by a lousy attitude. Then the first runners flew by, took their right turn and headed to the finish, followed by the other 51,391 finishers. Isabela and I probably saw 90% of them over the course of five or so hours, and I got to thinking… that many runners over the 26,2 mile distance is over 1.3 million man-miles, just that morning! Then I thought about the hundreds of training miles each runner had completed just to get there, totaling somewhere in the tens of millions. However, my biggest take away was more around the fact that every one of those participants had set their goal, had done everything necessary to get there, had done all their prep work, and here they were, a quarter mile from reaching their goal. It was pretty cool, but back then, marathons were for other people, and I still didn’t understand why, and how, someone could actually finish such a race. Now I understand, and it is amazing.
One of the week’s highlights wasn’t a race, but a super cool walk with my new EverWalk friends. We met at Columbus Circle on Saturday morning, and about 15 of us set off to walk the perimeter of Central Park. I had been looking forward to it, and it was great. We talked along the way, met some cool people, told and listened to some stories. Can’t think of a better way to spend a nice cold NY morning, my two favorite daughters in tow. good sports after only a couple of hours of sleep. Among the walkers was my new friend Janice, who unbeknownst to me until later, was doing her first 7.5 mile walk! Super cool, super proud, and proof that anything is possible. Thank you again to EverWalk, Ann Marie, Gabriella, and all the rest of you who made my arrival and my last day of November 2019 even more meaningful.
Loved watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving parade, a couple of hours of streaming happy faces from all over the country. And like the marathon, I thought about the enormous amount of preparation required to get there, the countless hours of practice, the victories in local and regional competitions, and finally here for the day. I’ve always loved watching marching bands, and here I had the best high-school and college ones right in front of me… ‘twas fun.
The week was a perfect combination of decompression from the prior few and some downtime to think about what comes next. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and it keeps the post-achievement depression at bay. It’s important to always have something to look forward to, a plan to execute, and I’m working on mine. Needless to say, I’ve been pretty focused on getting myself out of Austin and into New York, but now that I’ve done, and must look forward. As I do, I’ll be finishing this story, and it might take a while, but unless I properly finish this one, I can’t start another.
