Done.

So there hasn't been much in the way of rest for me since the big day - I took the next day off of work, but I've been back at it ever since. This is the first real chance I've had to write and it's because I'm in the car with Molly on the way back to Rochester to see my Mom again. Holy cow though, that race is amazing; and also quite peculiar.

The day started at 12:30am when I finally got to bed. at 1:30 my upstairs neighbor started playing music pretty loudly. I slept restlessly until the alarm went off at 5am. I met the team at the hotel in Boston and boarded the bus by 6:30. As we got on the turnpike we were stopped by a motorcycle cop so that 12 other tour buses could go by with their police escort. I assume that these buses carried the elite runners out to the start and it was pretty eerie to watch the motorcycle police shift positions around the buses as other traffic got close. The elite runners are from all over the world, but we regular runners tend to refer to them as "The Kenyans" because that country has been so dominate in running these past few years - though the winner of the mens race was from Ethiopia this year.

Out in Hopkinton it's foggy, cool and windy - but by 9:00 the sun has started to burn off some of the fog - the wind was there to stay unfortunately. I spent several restless hours with my fellow runners trying to keep warm, fed, water and dewatered before the race began,
but looking back it doesn't seem like that time was so dreadful after all. There was a flyover of F-15s at the starting time for the elite women and wheelchair racers. Around 10:15 the Liver Team started walking to the start line, which was over a half-mile away from where
we had been waiting. We jumped into our corral and moved along towards the start with something like 25,000 other excited/nervous runners. In the distance we can hear the voices of the man and woman that the Boston Athletic Association (BAA) hires to sort of MC the
start and they actually call out peoples names as they get to the start - not everyone's mind you, but I'd bet it'd feel special if it was your name they called out. Gun time for the elite men and
"regular folk" like us was 10:30 - or so I'm told; I've never heard a starting gun at any race I've ever done and Boston was no different. We just kept on walking and eventually a space opened up in front of us at the starting line and just like that, we started running.

Bam, I had started the marathon, except without the bam.  Now, everyone had told me that one of the multiple dangers of this particular race is that it starts on a downhill and and that combined with adrenaline and running in a crowd makes you start too fast. The trick to this course is to run consistently, and I fully intended to do that. Any of you who were
tracking me that day know that I did not. Hopkinton is pretty rural here, and over the first few miles I saw both men and women running into the woods along the way to relieve themselves. This ended up being a pretty common sight right up until we got into Wellesley I think.

At the first mile I hit a perfect 10-minute mile. At the second mile I hit 9:57, the third mile was right in there too. Sounds good right? I'm right on my goal pace of 10-minute miles right? Well, the truth is, in training I never actually figured out how to hit the pace over a long distance - I'm really more of a 10:30-11:30 kind of a guy. So by mile 3 I knew I was going way too fast, and couldn't manage to slow it down at all. So I figured I might as well enjoy it while I could - and pulled the fastest half-marathon of my life.

But before I get ahead of myself I should tell you about some of the sights along the way. At the start I saw a guy with a shaved head covered in red make-up who only seemed to be wearing some kind of diaper-thing with the words "BC Superfan" hastily written across his back. At mile 1 a spectator had stolen a sign that read "Now entering Brookline" that pissed off the crowd of runners near me - Brookline isn't until mile 22 or so. Not long after that I saw a sign for a "shortcut" with an arrow pointing at someone's front door. Somewhere in Ashland I got passed by Wonder Woman - who still looked good even though she must've been in her 50s. At mile 9 I saw a swan land in a pond and was amazed at how gracefully it used it's webbed feet to slow itself by pushing them across the surface of the water, and for a moment it was as though my consciousness could see the distortion of the water in perfect detail. All along the first half spectators had signs up with the score of the Red Sox game - but no one knew how the American elite runners were doing (we had a decent chance at winning both men and women - but ended up with third in both). In Framingham we came right up next to a rail line just as westbound commuter train passed. The conductor leaned on his horn and the sound was deafening, all I could do was raise my fist in the air and yell "GOOOOO!!!".  Then I had to stop and tie my shoe. Somewhere near here Batman & Robin passed me and had their picture taken with Wonder Women. This might sound like I'm delirious a little early in the day, but this is for real, for some people it's not enough to run a marathon, they have to add some kind of excitement to it by dressing in a costume - like say a giant Solo Cup.

The best part of the first half was Wellesley College. It's a tradition that the fine young ladies of Wellesley come out and cheer on the runners - and they do so by making the loudest noise humanly possible, for a solid half-mile. You can hear it coming from a ways away, and as I did I found myself moving to the right of the course to be closer to the fans. I had my name on my shirt and it seems that every girl out there yelled it, and damn, there isn't much better for
your motivation than a thousand 20 year old women shouting your name in encouragement. Plus, they want you to kiss them. I can't explain that part of the tradition, but many of them had signs saying "Kiss me" or "Kiss me I'm Latina", "Kiss me I'm Asian" or even "Kiss me I'm a lesbian". I'll admit I wanted to stop for a kiss (and Molly said it'd be OK - if it was on the cheek) but their energy pushed me forward and before I knew it I was leaving the best mile of the course behind.

At some point I figured out that my quads hurt - something that happened in training after 13 or 16 miles, but I this hit me at around 10 - way too early. Plus I had a blister forming. Not good. My pace was slowing some, but I still hadn't walked yet and knew that I should soon. I
walked only after the waterstop after the half-way mark, and as I slowed down to get the cup of water I felt that damned blister pop.  In that instant I was terrified of my next step, the last popped blister I had made every step after it a special agony - and 13.1 miles like that would be hell. Something worked in my favor this time though, and there was no pain. Whew. At this point I was into the tony suburb of Wellesley and let me tell you, I thought that town
would never end. It just dragged on and on and on. The high point of this (after the college girls) was seeing Molly's second cousin Randy looming in the crowd. I just looked up and there he was, I gave him a hug without thinking or slowing down and he pounded me on the back so
hard it nearly knocked the wind out of me!

Like I said, Wellesley wore on and on, and eventually I crossed I-95 and headed up the hill to mile 16.5 where the Liver Team has it's spectator area. Here Molly, Becky, Sofia, German, Jennie and Bec were waiting to cheer me on. I guess I didn't let on to them that my quads
were like solid rock because they all still say I looked great. There was time for quick hugs and a few pictures before I was on my way again. On into Newton to face the dreaded hills and their queen, Heartbreak.

I kept my head down for the first hill and made it up without much trouble. There was some more walking before the second one, but I made it up that one okay too and it was in here somewhere that bunch of high school kids did "The Wave" in time with me as I passed. Just
before Heartbreak I saw my friends Ski and Kath. Ski is a great runner and he asked me if I wanted help up Heartbreak. I told him yes and he jumped onto the course in his jeans and sambas, shouting to his wife that he'd be right back. Up we went and man that hurt. Just before
the top I saw one of my recent clients and gave her a good surprise.  Ski talked me through the last bit before jumping out at BC and handing me into the care of the rowdy, likely drunken, Boston College students. I've been told that the course quiets down here but not today. No, the BC kids shouted nearly as loud as the Wellesley girls. This really helped me through mile 21, the "Silent Mile".  I was also glad that my already abused quads didn't react badly to the  downhill after Heartbreak which is another classic problem for runners on this course. I was pushing ahead to mile 22.5 because Bec was there to meet me there and run me in from there. To my relief she was about a half mile early and was wearing a shirt that read "GO ANDY".
This seemed to resonate with the crowd because for the next 4 miles I was met by cheering spectators yelling "GO ANDY!" - I can't describe how much this helped. Down into Cleveland Circle we went and saw Karla "The Sartor!" cheering for me.

Now we're in Brookline for sure and the course straightened and leveled out for a bit. Somewhere in here we saw Brandy and Ryan, and to my surprise Brandy jumped in and ran for a spell too. Ryan followed along on his bike taking video which I might post if he ever sends it to me. Seeing them was pretty awesome. At the last water stop the I used I recognized one of the volunteers as a someone that I had had about 3 dates with about 6 years ago - I just gave her a big hug for the hell of it.

I keep talking about how good it is to to see friends and have the crowd on my side for a reason - I wasn't sure if I'd finish. I knew I had it in me mentally, but my legs were really messed up and I was hurting bad. I worried that at some point I'd hit a hill or something and my legs would just stop and I wouldn't be able to finish. It happens to people, and seeing my friends pushed me on.

Just before Citgo Hill (bridge really) we passed a guy running with flag of the US Navy held above his head on a short flagpole. I gave him a "Go Navy!" on my way by. Into Kenmore Square and I had 1 mile to go.  To my right were people just out of the Sox game including
former Liver runners Rhianne and Corrine, then on my left The Sartor appeared again! But I wasn't there was still more to do, and so on we went.

Out of Kenmore Square the course takes you underneath the overpass of Mass Ave, and so there's a short downhill and uphill that feels like a mountain, and then it's that famed right Hereford and left on Boylston It's not as easy as that because of course hereford has an
uphill that crests at the left turn. But we made that turn and the finish line was in sight! But damn, it seemed so far away. Then on our right was my family again! There to cheer me into the last quarter mile! I made it across that line with a smile on my face and the official clock read 5:11.22.

After that is was off to get my finishers medal, foil blanket and bag, and I met Molly and my family back at the hotel. There I saw all my Liver friends and heard the story of their runs. Some were remarkably good, while others had sadness, one guy passed out just after  Heartbreak Hill and didn't finish. Two of our runners were injured and finished the course just as they were finishing disassembling it, one earned her medal with  a time of over 9 hours!

It's really hard to sum up my emotions about this day and this run, there really is just too much to say. It wasn't just this one day, it was all the days in the last four months that brought me there. The training for a marathon is a marathon itself, and this one had ice storms, snow, cold, blisters, old friends, deadlines, fundraisers, holidays, a round of layoffs, sick mothers, sick grandmothers, new friends, fights with state licensing boards, bloody nipples, and chafing to name just the high points. This time I really saw how life goes on while you're training and that can derail your whole plan, which makes it all the more meaningful to run the marathon behind a man with a shirt that reads: "Stroke survivor - 50th marathon" or "Cancer survivor, 50th marathon in 50 states". Or running alongside the guy with obvious signs of Parkinsons Disease, or the blind runner with his guide, the woman with a prosthetic foot, the man with two prosthetic legs, the Iraq War vet in his hand-cranked wheelchair, and even the couple in their 60s running with a rubber tube tied to each others waist so that they wouldn't lose each other. All these people have a story at least as interesting and challenging as the one I've been
telling you these past few months (probably a better one really) and we all came together and did the same course, under our own power, and it doesn't matter if we did it in 2:08 like the Kenyans, or in 9 hours (because it's impressive to do anything that physical for that long).

So I'd like to thank you all for sticking with me these last few months - and for reading this far into this rambling novella I'm writing. Your kind words and financial support have been a great help to me, and to the Liver foundation. I'd like to thank everyone that called my name while I was running, I tried to mention all of you that I know of in this blog and if I missed you I'm sorry. It's been a great journey, and I wish you all the best of luck in your own lives.

One last thing, people keep asking me if I'll do it again next year.
The answer to that is yes.

There are pictures here:  http://web.me.com/andyhint/Canaveral/113th_Boston_Marathon.html 

Why. (3 of 3)

So the Why. blogs have tried to tell you about my motivations for committing to the arduous task of running this marathon.  First I tried to explain why running goes with charities, and then I tried to explain why I chose this particular charity.  Today I tell you why I run.  

Many of you who know me from my middle and high school days know that I was a swimmer and didn't much care for running.  That was true right up until I moved to Boston, and then something new happened. 

Peer pressure.

I fell in with a group of great people who were runners and one night at Charlie's Kitchen we got to talking about one of my new friends marathon training and that's when I realized that nearly everyone around the table had already run one.  In that moment I knew that there was nothing that I could do that would equal the experience that they all shared - except to run a marathon.  Later that year the opportunity came up and I knew I had to try.  

So peer pressure is what got me started, but that won't get you across the finish line and then into another race.  What is it that keeps me running?  It's simple really.

I run because I want to live.

I want to live to be 100 and I don't want to have to rely on medical science alone to get me there.  I know that one of the secrets to a long life and healthy mind is staying physically active, and running is the best way that I've yet found to do that.  Swimming and biking are great, but require an extra level of preparation that in the past have kept me from doing them on a regular basis.  Running gets me up and going, and as a bonus I often get to see parts of the world that I wouldn't normally.  Things like; sunrise, sunset, Venus, a waning Moon, ice-covered trees, budding trees, house demolition, house construction, bag pipes, installation art - all of the ebb and flow of the world that I live in.  It also gives me time to touch base with all of the great runner buddies that I have, most especially the one who sicced the peer pressure to run on me in the first place (I'm looking at you Bec).  And it is something that I can constantly improve on and use to give myself another challenge, which is how we prosper in life.  I intend to cross that finish line tomorrow, and it will not be easy, but knowing that it is one part of a larger journey, life, makes it a tiny bit better.

As always, I love you all and appreciate your support of me, my family, and the Liver Foundation.  Please be safe in your lives and your endeavors, if you think of me tomorrow please wish me luck, but know that what I do is easier than what many others have to on a daily basis.  

Now you know Why.

.

Why. (2 of 3)

So, I don't really have anyone in my life that has liver disease. As far as I know there's no history of it in my family, none of my close friends have it, and as far as I know I'm not particularly at any great risk of getting it (knock on wood), so why am I running a marathon to support the American Liver Foundation? Well, there's two reasons.

1. I knew from the past few years of volunteering with the team while Molly was training that they are a well-organized group that views its' marathon team as an important part of it's fundraising effort and supports it accordingly. I'm really impressed at the well-organized long runs, options for mid-week runs (hill runs and track work - though I don't do the latter), the team coach, and that they've developed good community relationships which has lead to free access to a physical therapist. The day of the race there's a ton of support on the course and afterwards. Each month there's a team meeting which allows you to better know your teammates, gain training tips, get fundraising ideas and get a feel for how we're doing as a team to reach the larger fundraising goal. Plus, these meetings always had a component that taught us about liver disease. All in all, the American Liver Foundation is really there for it's runners, if I've ever had a question or problem there's always been someone there who can help me with it. Also there are a lot of returning runners who are not only helpful to new runners, but also are very welcoming and friendly. The fact that these people come back year after years means to me that the ALF is something worth coming back to. The sum of all this is that if an organization is going to go to all these lengths to maintain its running team on such a professional level then it must mean that it's conducting its own business on the same if not higher level.

2. It's a good cause. I know that there's a lot of good causes out there, especially when you talk about diseases, and I am not the person to tell you that one is better than another, but trying to stop liver disease is one of the good ones. Liver disease comes in many types and strikes a broad range of people, most people think liver disease is caused by drinking too much or being overweight, which is true in the case of fatty liver disease or alcohol-induced liver disease, but these are only part of the story. In our team meetings we heard about people coming down with liver disease who were otherwise healthy active people (one had ironically just run the marathon for the ALF before being diagnosed). We also heard about kids who contract biliary atresia shortly after they're born. This isn't a hereditary condition, doctors suspect that it is viral but that hasn't even been proven yet, and what's worse, without early detection (as in the first 3 months of life) biliary atresia is fatal. Another scary one is autoimmune hepatitis, which is when your body suddenly and unexpectedly starts attacking your liver as though it was a foreign bacteria. Doctor's don't know what causes that one either. There's something like 80 different liver diseases, each with their own cause, symptoms, treatments and effects. The liver is the common factor to them all and so the ALFs research into understanding how the liver works helps fight them all. In that way helping with their research actually helps cover my own (and your own) health in a broad number of ways.

With that, I am 3 days away from completing this journey. Stay tuned for the 3rd part of "Why."

Why. (1 of 3)

As I've said before, a lot of strange things go through my mind when I'm running. One of the most common for me is wondering why other people aren't running when I am. Many days I see people dressed for going to Temple or out to breakfast and I don't wonder about them so much since they've got something else going on and are all dressed up anyway. But a lot of the people I see are just regular people who, in my mind and at that moment, may as well be running. It's an "I'm doing it, why aren't you?" kind of thing. I'd like to point out at this point that when I'm not running and I see someone who is running I think that I should be running too - even if I'm on my way home from a long run - so I may be going crazy.

Naturally there are plenty of reasons that people aren't running. They could be unable, unwilling, uninterested, just have done a run, or any of thousands of other reasons that I won't go in to now, after all, running isn't for everybody. The only people that I don't question while I'm running and thinking along these lines are the homeless. Once I was running down the street and internally wondering why about everyone I passed, and then I saw a homeless guy and didn't wonder at all about him. I simply asked myself what I had that he didn't (apart from the obvious) and I knew it straightaway; energy. I live a kind of life that provides me with enough energy to get through my day of work and have enough extra that I can spend it on running ungodly distances. And if my usual diet isn't up to the task, I can afford to buy more food. The homeless guy might have the time to run 12 miles, but if he's scrounging for food then he certainly doesn't have energy to burn on running what is a net zero gain of distance (since I always end my run where I start it).

In this way training a marathon is somewhat like giving to a charity. I have extra time and energy that I choose to put into running. I also make enough money throughout the year that I can give some extra to a charity or two, which I'm happy to do. I'm not going to get any buildings named after me, but I give what I can. I'm willing to sacrifice some of my time, energy, and money to help what I think is a good cause, and I think it's the idea of mutual sacrifice that makes allies of running or walking and charities. I mean, it doesn't make a lot of sense to run for a good cause, the act of running doesn't help people with liver disease get any better; the money that is donated to the Liver Foundation does though. And so I take on two burdens; one is to run the equivalent distance from Marathon to Athens, and the other is to raise a significant amount of money for the American Liver Foundation. Many people don't see the value in either endeavor, but you my dear friends, family and supporters, do. For this I thank you. I am inches away from hitting the financial goal, and mere days away from the race itself. It is with your help that I've come this far and no matter what happens on the 20th, you have my gratitude. I understand that you have placed a lot of faith in me, and I will not let you down.

13 days.

The Home Stretch?

Wow, so I ran 21 miles yesterday, and boy that was a hell of a thing.  I'm pretty impressed at how you forget what it's like even though you've done it before.  

Basically the day went like this, early out of bed, meet the team at Boston College, and then take the bus out to Hopkinton for a team photo, and then a run back to where we started.  Believe me I know that seems like a lot of work just to get back to where you started, that was on my mind the whole ride out.  We took the group photo and everybody just started walking to where the starting line is supposed to be and then we just started running without any fanfare to speak of.  The weekend 3 weeks before race day is an important one for everybody training for the marathon and so between the other charity teams in the area and qualified runners I was one of over a thousand people running the course and never out of sight of other runners, which is a big change from our regular runs.  

Like I said last week, my body is up to the challenge of completing the marathon and so it's the  psychological challenge that I had to beat on this run.  So, I divided the run into 3 parts, 1 unknown and 2 known.  Part 1 is mile 1-9 and the unknown because though I've driven it before I've never run it.  The second part is mile 9-16, we did this part on the 16-miler, After that it's 16-21, which includes the foreboding Heartbreak Hill.  This division worked pretty well for me, the first 9 were mostly downhill and so I took it slow to keep energy in reserve, plus at this point in training I can run just about any 9 mile stretch even if I haven't seen it before.  The next bit was tougher as it includes both the highest and lowest points between the start and Heartbreak - this section really dragged for me, but might not on race day as it includes a mile of screaming coeds at Wellesley College.  The Final 5 miles weren't too bad really, even though it had those 2 big-assed hills and then the Heartbreak.  I read on someone else's blog that when faced with these hills you should just put your head down and go (kind of like not looking down when you're on top of a cliff), which worked pretty well for me.  I made it up Heartbreak with some energy to spare and was glad to see my teammates there.  

The day started grey and in the 40s, but we ended with a cloudless sky and tempts in the 60s.  Nice.  The funny thing about a one-way marathon is the tan lines, the right side of my neck and my right arm got a nice burn (not too bad) that was earning me calls of "redneck" by my friends all night.  I got to mile 21 in about 4:06, which is slower than I wanted it to be, and did include some walking, but I know that I could do the remaining 5.2 within the hour (unless I bonk on the way down Heartbreak).  Everybody talks about an extra kick of adrenaline that they get on race day, and I'm looking forward to seeing what that will do for me on the big day.

I'm pretty happy with my performance.  No blisters and the new shoes and socks held up well.  I was very sore at the end but the tightness in the backs of my knees didn't hit until mile 16 as opposed to 13 like last week.  At mile 9 I took off a layer of clothes and found that I had a bloody nipple; nothing new for me but you hope the body glide will keep it at bay, I'm starting to consider medical tape for the big day.  That's the blood on my shirt that I'm pointing out in the picture up there.  I love the shirt I'm wearing, it gives you the last set of directions that you need on race day, right on Hereford Street (uphill, grrr...) and then a left on Boylston, where the finishing line will be in sight.  Can't wait for that.

A day later I'm still in disbelief that I ran the 21 miles yesterday, but I did.  I didn't obsess about it, in fact when my alarm went off that morning I couldn't remember what I had to do that morning.  No, I just did the math on what was in front of me; one 9 mile race, one 7 mile race, 5 miles uphill, and don't stop.

Three weeks from tomorrow.

The Training Goes On.

So, it's been a while since I last reported in about the Chuck Stratton sighting. Since then I've come back to Boston and mushed on with training. I have to say though that until last night I felt like I was sort of going through the motions. Not surprisingly the long the day after I got back wasn't great, I was just out of energy completely. The next day was a fun 5K with my friends called the Ras na hEireann that is in Davis Square which was a lot of fun, as was the after party, especially since it was nice enough to sit in the sun all day!

After that though it was back to the grind of work and training and it was just hard to get into it all. I did my usual runs that week just fine, but wasn't feeling the old excitement and energy that I had been. That Saturday was a particularly tough day because I was I was planning to do 16 only to find that FitCorp was only set up for 12 miles, and only had one water stop! The water stop was at mile 3, so that meant that I had over 10 miles without water when there normally would be about 3 in that time. That's a hard way to go when you're not prepared. Fortunately I'm on a team with some damn good teammates. Out in Brookline I fell in with some of the other Liver runners who were going to 16 as well including this guy Adam that I've been getting to know over the past few weeks.  He was hitting a pace that was good for me and when it came time to commit to the 16 miles he offered me water from his fuel belt.  I can't tell you how much that helped me, nor how much I appreciate him for giving me water.  He was also very encouraging and walked with me a few times when I felt that I couldn't run.  Great help to me.  I made it to the end of this one tired, but surprisingly I wasn't sore or physically drained, the problems I was having were in my mind.  I hadn't regained the belief that I could finish the run; I had lost some faith in myself and I honestly think it's because of not getting enough rest.  I wasn't getting the "reset" that a good nights sleep gives you. I ended that 16 miles slow, but still happy because I had diagnosed my problem and all I had to do to fix it was stay in bed.  Nice.

I did that pretty well Saturday night and into Sunday morning (not quite into the afternoon).  Monday's run was pretty cold and upwind which is no fun.  I woke up yesterday feeling like my legs were still tired from Monday and Saturdays running and so was really worried about the hill workout at FitCorp that night.  I started late but settled right in to the rhythm of uphill to downhill and before too long was getting the feel for efficiently burning energy on the way up and recharging energy on the way down again.  When I got done I felt like it had been over too fast!  I felt like I hadn't done enough of a workout even though I had.  This is a really weird feeling that I didn't try ruin by running extra, that's a great way to ruin your training schedule.  

Now it's Wednesday morning and an off day.  I have 6 miles tomorrow before the big 21 Miler on the course on Saturday.  After this week I think I might actually be ready for that.

In related news, I got fitted for new shoes at my local Marathon Sports, and they switched me out of the Saucony's that I had been wearing for years and into the Asics Gel Fortitude 3. So far, so good!

In other news, my Mother should be getting out of the hospital today!  

Motivation.

It's really strange to be home while one of your parents is in the hospital; it means the time in their house has an emptiness to it.  We spend the day at the hospital and then Dad and I go home and he checks the messages on their answering machine and we go through the calls, most of which are for Mom, though not all of them know that she's in the hospital.  One of the calls this week was from the wife of the former pastor of the church we went to in Youngstown checking in on Mom and reporting that her husband had just had a heart attack.  This was hard to hear with all this other stuff going on; the good Reverend was quite a nice man and had been like a mentor figure to my father. 

I've been awful torn about going out and running, it seems like there's always something I should be at the hospital for, and it's hard to find the motivation to pick a new running course in a town that I'm unfamiliar with as far as running goes.  I have run though and the course was kind of a natural for me because all I did was pick a landmark that was familiar to me and then head for it.  I picked the High Falls and it works out that that an out and back is about 8 miles, and that's just what I need  now.  You can see my course by clicking here, though my newly calibrated watch tells me it's longer than what the Google thinks it is.  The section along the river is pretty good, but the genius urban planners here didn't make it a priority to preserve that trail all the way along the river, so I did have to run through the city for a bit of it, and downtown Rochester isn't as friendly or nice as Comm Ave or Beacon Hill.  Sunday's run went just sort of OK, but I made it through fine.  I planned to run the same route in the morning yesterday, but various things pushed that to the afternoon.  

Around 1:30 or so yesterday Mom complained about being too hot, so I stepped to the back for the room to see about setting up a fan for her.  I looked up from wrestling with that to see a Man standing at the door to her room.  He was probably in his 80s, dressed sharply in a blue blazer, shirt, tie and khakis, and had an obvious energy to him that made him seem much younger.  He was clearly waiting to be invited in which I did, and in three short motions had crossed the room to where my mother sat, dropped to one knee and was holding her hand before I knew it.  I was surprised by this partly because of his speed, but also because I had no idea who he was!  He knew Mom though and mentioned Becky, Dad and I as though he knew us.  I introduced myself and we shook hands, but he didn't give his name, so I asked him who he was as politely as I could.  He looked me straight in the eye and responded:

"I'm Chuck Stratton," and coolly turned back to my mother.

"The Reverend Stratton?"  I asked in disbelief.

He turned back to me, "Yes the Reverend Stratton, just let the ramifications of that sink in." 

I did.  

This was our pastor from Youngstown who I hadn't seen in 15 years or so, and who I had assumed was lying half-dead in a bed somewhere else in this hospital.  My father and I both tried looking him up but couldn't get the lady at the front desk to tell us he what room he was in, damnable privacy laws.  

"Wait, I thought you had just had a heart attack?"  I said to him.  He glanced away as though he was deflecting bullets with nigh-invulnerable skin and said:

"I did have one.  About three weeks ago.  I'm fine now."  He sounded as though he were the Black Night saying "It's merely a flesh wound" when his arm had just come off.  

After that he said a few more things to Mom, we introduced him to the Deacon of my parents new(er) church who was in the room and he was gone just as quickly as he had shown up.  Leaving me floored in his wake.  How did this man who had had a heart attack seem younger than the man I had looked up to all those years ago?  

When I told my Dad about it he likened the experience to the Disciples seeing Jesus after the resurrection.  I don't know about that, but I could see that this man was unstoppable, and it filled in me a desire to be the same.  After my Dad showed up I went for my run, adding a half mile to it despite winds here being in the 35mph range.  

I don't know how being here for my Mom will affect my training, but I am going to try to be unstoppable.