Why Can't I Just be Here?

Like millions of other Americans living in large metropolitan areas, I take the train into work.  It is an easy, eco-friendly mode of transportation and, frankly, beats the heck out of sitting in traffic for hours every day.

Every day, each of us pour into and out of the train packed with hundreds of other commuters.  We stand together on the platform, heads down, eyes buried in our smart phones.  We pile into the train and sit together typing furiously on our PCs, heads in our iPads or Kindles.  Out of the train, we walk together in a mass pack of people through the city streets toward our offices, client meetings, and work places heads filled with music streaming through the ear buds stuck into our ears.  It is public transportation in 2013...and it is like this in every western country I have been to.

A few days ago, I was standing on the platform waiting on the train, ear buds stuck in my ears, head buried in my iPhone.  For some reason, I can't remember exactly why, I looked up.  As I raised my head I noticed something.  The trees were full of leaves ... when did that happen?  Ok, it is May, but I guess I hadn't really noticed the spring pass into summer. 

I took out my ear buds and put down my iPhone.  The city was full of life.  Birds were singing, trees were full and swaying in the breeze.  The stones on the outside of the buildings glistened in the morning light.  Two older people waiting for the train were discussing grandchildren.  The sun felt warm and calming on my face.   I took a deep breath of summer, sun and happiness.

Mindfulness.  It is something that I decided to focus on in 2013 (some would call this a New Year’s resolution...I refuse).  I read up on it ... I even subscribed to a new magazine called …wait for it … "Mindfulness".  Yet, I had completely missed this transition of winter to summer ... even though I had been outside in this very spot every week for the last 6 months.  I guess I haven't been doing a very good job.

Since that moment, I must admit still migrating with the masses, ear buds in, iPhone in hand.  But I am trying to look up more often - notice the people around me, look at the trees, buildings, rivers, birds, the list goes on. 

Next week I am going to put that iPhone down.  I am going to leave the ear buds out.  I am going to look up at the trees and listen to the birds.  I am going to smile at my neighbor even if they think I am crazy.  Do you think I can do it?  Will you join me?

Sometimes its Not About the Run

Some things became very clear these last few days.

1. I have an amazing network of people that have touched my life throughout the years and across the continents
2. The number of good people in this world greatly outnumber the bad
3. I am not immune to tragedy 
4. I value my loved ones ... a lot

Most of you know I run marathons and, along with more than 27,000 others, I was lucky enough to be running the Boston Marathon on Monday.  The Boston Marathon is the pinnacle...a goal of a great number of marathon runners including me.   One of my bucket list items, I was ecstatic when in May I ran a qualifying time in Toronto and was successfully able to get into Boston.

That elation turned to bitter disappointment in November as I tore one of the muscles in my foot and faced a recovery that significantly impacted my Boston training time.  But this was a bucket list item and I was determined to be at the starting line.  On Monday I found myself exactly there.  I was injured and slow and undertrained.  I was terrified I would not be able to finish.  But I was there along with 27,000 other people who had reached their dream of running the Boston Marathon.  What I didn’t realize is that I would not able to finish but for a reason that I could not have even conceived of at the time.

The day was perfect, the crowd was fantastic, the excitement palatable.  As the field of runners reached mile 25.5 (me included), we were met by runners coming back the other direction ... “you cannot go any further, race is canceled”  ... we heard words like “explosions”  “there is no finish line” ... we were confused, we were tired, and we were cold.  We had just run 25 miles ... there were no blankets to cover us, no water and food to nourish us, no medals to tell us we had accomplished what we came for, no one to direct us.  I tried to find someone with a cell phone.  I wanted to call my boyfriend who was waiting for me at the finish...but no cell phone calls were going through.  I tried to text “This is Diane, we cannot go any further, what is going on at the finish line?  I am hearing of explosions”.  Nothing back.  Then we began to hear “there are injuries”, we all knew our loved ones were waiting for us at the finish line.  People started to cry - others were walking around with signs held high looking for their runners.  I started to get worried.  What is going on???  I asked the two police officers that were standing in the area ... “just be patient” they told me, no directions yet as to what to do, where to go.

So I stood there, very cold and very tired, no real clue about the gravity of the situation, but with an eery feeling that something very wrong was going on.  The bomb squad came screaming through, there were helicopters and police sirens and fire engines.  I kept close to Idaho Sam with whom I ran the final 5 miles with.  He had lent me his cell phone and it was my only connection with the outside world.  “Don’t leave me Sam”.  

People started streaming out of the apartments along Commonwealth where we were standing.  They came with buckets of water and what cups they had, they came with any food they had and they came with information.  They leant us their cell phones, they provided encouragement, and they came with boxes of trash bags so we could wrap ourselves in plastic to keep warm.  Sam stayed with me until I could reach my friend.  It was absolute chaos, so we agreed to meet back at the hotel.

So I set off on my own desperately trying to find a taxi, wrapped in kitchen trash bags for warmth.  All the taxis were full, but a couple of college students found me, lent me their jacket and found a taxi for me.  I was able to make it back to the hotel, with all my loved ones accounted for and safe.  Once back I found my cell phone, text messages, email, Facebook page and LinkedIn account inundated with requests for status.  “Are you ok?”  I spoke to my kids (each individually), I spoke to my parents, my friends and colleagues.  I still have many to call, the outpouring of concern was both overwhelming and encouraging at once.

That night we went out for dinner in spite of all the directives to stay put...as did a great deal of others.  All of us;  runners, spectators, Bostonians, talked, we shared, we connected, we supported each other.  As I got more information, I realized that if I had not been injured, my normal pace time would have put me at the finish line right at the moment of the explosions.  My friend had been delayed 10 minutes trying to find somewhere to buy me flowers, otherwise, he was going to have been waiting for me right at the location of the first explosion.  Overwhelming.

In spite of all that, this morning we ran the last .7 miles of the race to as close to the finish line as we could get, getting high fives from the police that continued to man the crime scene.  I retrieved my belongings and I got a finishers medal ... 

As I reflect, I am intensely encouraged by the generosity and warmth of everyone I came in contact with.  The residents of the apartments along Commonwealth, the police and support personnel, all the people that went out to eat and sat at the bar sharing their experiences, the guy that lent me his jacket and cell phone, and Idaho Sam for sticking with me when I couldn’t get through to find out if the people I love were safe.  There is truly more good than bad.  I will not forget that nor will I let myself be caught up in hatred and negativity.  We are a community, a family, human.  We have a bond that transcends our differences.  

I have a new appreciation of Boston and of the human race.  I will be back next year to run Boston.  You can count on that!