Have you ever thought about what a difference a few seconds can make? I have never been so thankful for a few extra seconds as I was this week while doing my last hard uphill run. Last Thursday morning Sara and I had driven 15 minutes to what has become one of my favorite runs in preparation for the hills of The ING New York City Marathon. I locked my Titan and headed out for my typical 20-minute warm-up jog along this beautiful little single track that runs along Lower Rock Creek. I came back and, uncharacteristically for me, hopped right in the truck to drive the 2.5 miles up the road where I would start my climb. I usually take a few minutes to stretch before getting in the car but today for some reason I didn’t feel the need. I pulled onto the highway about 200 meters in front of a sport utility vehicle and we started to drive up to the base of the climb.
As we were driving I glanced back in my rear view mirror and what I saw was like something out of a movie. The car, for no apparent reason, swerved into the far right hand shoulder and then headed all the way back across the four lane highway into the left hand shoulder where it rolled in a cloud of dust and came to a stop. My heart missed a couple of beats and didn’t know what to do. My mind flashed back to a psychology class I had taken at Stanford where we learned about how when emergencies happen in public places, where there are lots of people who could act, people usually didn’t because they all figured someone else would. I was not going to be that person. I pulled off on the shoulder and we immediately called 911 and talked to the dispatcher for a few minutes. Before we got off the phone a fire truck that happened to be driving by was already on the scene with its lights on. We figured at that point there was very little we could do by running back to the scene, as not only the fire truck was there but various cars had pulled over as well.
I was pretty shaken up as we continued on our way and Sara dropped me off to start my run. My thoughts were with the person in that car and I was imaging what could have happened to us. What went wrong with their car? Did they make it? What if I had jogged the warm-up 20 seconds slower and had been driving next to that car when it started swerving? What if I had taken some more time to stretch? That could have been us. I started the climb with a very different perspective than I started the warm-up. Running didn’t seem any less significant, it felt more precious. Life felt more precious.
Perspective is a huge part of running. It’s the lens that we experience our running through. My “lens” was very different for the uphill run than it typically is. I welcomed the pain as I appreciated being alive to experience it. I made the conscientious decision to take in every aspect of the run taking in the beauty of the scenery, despite the thinning air. I paid extra attention to my senses. I felt the cool breeze blow through my hair and the sweat dripping from my brow. I could feel my heart pounding in my body and it never felt so good. Sometimes it takes tragedy for us to realize what a gift it is to get to go out for a run. Rolling out of bed on Thursday morning I wasn’t expecting to get much more than a good workout in but I got a brand new appreciation for life.
It served as a good reminder for me to really enjoy these last couple of weeks before the marathon. I often get into countdown mode, thinking about how many more long tempos or long hard runs are left. Thursday reminded me to take in every moment of every day. After all, it’s the journey that makes the summit so special. If someone took you to the summit of Everest in a helicopter you would appreciate being there, but if you just spent years of training and preparation and had just completed a long and treacherous journey to the top of Everest you would have a whole different sense of accomplishment when you summit. I have spent the last 13 years of my life trying to make it to the summit of my career. I haven’t been to the top yet, but it feels close. But even if I get to the summit on November 1st, if I get there and haven’t enjoyed each step of the journey than I have lost. Life is too precious to wish a moment away.
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