Monday, October 5, 2020

I run a path...

I run a path of life and death
Of sun and rain
And sweat
And breath

Of thoughts of distant places there
On earth 
In clouds high
in the air

would have been the Twin Cities Marathon; in Minneapolis-to-St. Paul. The event fell victim to Covid. So it serves as a  'justified' hiatus in my quest for First-to-50. Would have been #38. So here's to next year. And 12 more. We're keeping it real in Mexico.

Clearly, my run yesterday had the race in mind and I replayed a number of the stretches of those 26.2 miles which are so indelibly etched into my mind, body and soul. And shoes! (the 'runners' get re-purposed as 'walkers'... with usually another year or so of 'life'...)

The feeling and view of the start... where for the last 10 years or so, I set myself at the very end of the pack. It's all up/downhill from there!

Running through the empty-runner-filled streets of Minneapolis, among the tall buildings and past the iconic Basilica and the Walker Art Center; bells a-ringing...

The beautiful lakes of Cedar, Calhoun and Harriet... (not Calhoun anymore; name-change to Bde Maka Ska) as the sun (most of the time) would be rising atop the trees on a cool October morning...

The cathedral-like, tree-lined parkway of the Minnehaha Creek...

The half-way mark-which-really-isn't at 13.1 miles at Lake Nokomis...

Up that hill and onward to the Falls of Minnehaha...

Along both sides of the Mighty Mississippi river and into St. Paul (getting there! only 8 miles to go...)

Up Heart-break-legs-ache-hill to the sights of St, Thomas University and the short/forever stretch of 4.5 miles down breath-taking- back-breaking-Summit Avenue... (maybe conscious enough to notice the Governor's Mansion... and the James. J. Hill house)

To the sight of the cross atop the St. Paul Cathedral... and the long, easy-painful-forever-but-worth-it-downhill... eventually crossing the Finish/START line...

And a short kneel just across... a prayer of thanks and gratitude... for my health, wealth and abundance... for my family and friends and those out to support me... for all those along the way whom I shared a smile with... and especially for all those completing their first marathon, like my nephew Henry, who now knows for sure that anything is possible and nothing is impossible... and those who watched and witnessed and thought 'Hey... I can do it'; whatever the 'it' is...

And then the pizza with friends and family later... and another opportunity to remind them:

Hey... you can do 'that'... It's possible...

Whatever the 'that' is...

That's what the marathon is all about. 

And one more guy.

Along yesterday's run, I had spotted and picked up a small piece of obsidian. But of course... A nice shiny piece too. I appreciated that little stone all along... and then I passed a gentleman along the lake whom I'd seen before in that area. Let us say he is one of the men of the Lake... reddened eyes and yet with a gentle presence; weathered-tanned-face-serene... As I passed him, I noticed he had a bag of bottles. Looked like wine bottles. I felt his plight in life.

Twenty feet passed and I stopped. No thoughts here. I turned around and went back to him to give him my stone.

Bueno fortuna! I said to him, with a smile.

I reached out the stone and he opened his hand. I gave it to him and covered his hand with both of mine... looking into his eyes... desiring him to feel my love. Consciously dwelling-as-if-in-eternity... but for  moments... Hoping he would not be disappointed I had no coins for him.

And I saw in his eyes a look, as I turned and jogged off, that I could not quite understand. It disoriented me... It's taken until today.

You see, the look I saw from my brother was not one that was looking at me. He was looking back at himself in the mirrored reflection of my UnderArmor sunglasses. He could not see my eyes. He could see his, though... and I now understand that look. I feel that look... I know that look...

Who am I?

Who do I say I am?

Something connected that allowed those realizations to reflect back to that man. And me.

It's possible, Senor... No thing is impossible... Squeeze the stone, Senor...

Of thoughts of distant places there
On earth 
In clouds high
in the air

Especially on Marathon Day.

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