Posted on April 15, 2013 under Storytelling with no comments yet

Long distance runners are a strange lot. Driven, disciplined, self absorbed, stubborn, dedicated, often injured (!), half crazy and goal oriented are words often used to describe marathoners. The 116^th. edition of the Boston Marathon on April 16,2012 revealed another quality not often seen: compassion. More than 25,000 runners from nearly 65 countries around the world arrived at the starting line in Hopkinton, Massachusetts with a singular mission of getting to Copley Square in Boston and crossing the finish line. Virtually every one of those runners had met the stringent time requirements to qualify for Boston. Several days before the race, all eyes were on the weather forecast as Boston was anticipating an unprecedented blast of heat for one day: marathon Monday.

Three days before the race, the runners received the first official warning from the Race Director: do not run the marathon if you have any underlying health issues and  do not run if you have come from a colder climate and are not acclimatized. That alone would eliminate most of the field with the exception of the Kenyans and Ethiopians. Throughout the weekend the communiqués became more alarming and it was obvious to everyone that the organizers were very concerned about casualties. Not that long ago a few runners attending the Chicago Marathon succumbed to the heat.

Attending all of the pre-race activities it was clear that all of the runners were reassessing the race, recalibrating their goals and trying to decide to run or defer their entry for one year. In the Athletes Village prior to the race one could sense something very different was about to happen. Nobody was talking about personal bests, race pace, negative splits – the usual pre-race banter . Everyone was urging everyone else to take it easy, to run in pairs, to be on the lookout for fellow runners who might find themselves in difficulty.

The half kilometre walk to the start line resembled cattle being lead to the slaughter. The temperature had already reached 75 degrees and many people  already had a pretty good sweat going before the race even started. And then something magical happened. As the runners crossed the start line, one could sense that there were others concerned about the runners – 1,000,000 fans lining every inch of the road from Hopkinton to Boston.

Runners are focused and normally pick the shortest path to complete the 26.2 mile ( 42 kilometre)marathon route. They look straight ahead,  not all that conscious of their surroundings , and rarely utter a word to their fellow competitors. It’s not that they’re anti social, but talking requires energy and every ounce of energy must be conserved to go the distance. It became obvious very quickly that the competitive veil of the runner had been  discarded , and it was now about survival. As the Race Director said in his final e-mail before the race, “ This is no longer a race. It is an experience”. When you take 25,000 runners and shift the focus from self to the entire community of runners, great things can happen… and did.

By noon, the temperature peaked at 90 degrees and stayed there for the duration. Trying to stay hydrated and body temperature regulated became an obsession. Luckily help was to be found in the throngs of spectators. Around the 5 mile mark garden hoses started to appear regularly along the route. Local fire departments opened fire hydrants, young children with water cannons and  water guns laid waste with direct hits to the runners. Misting tents sprayed blessedly cool water and provided temporary relief from the scorching sun. There were very small children wanting a “high 5” and others with small buckets of ice cubes. Runners are also finicky in regards to their intake during a race. The usual menu of water, Gatorade and gels was supplemented ( not in order of importance! ) by gummi bears,  freezies,  m@m’s, fig newtons, watermelon, oranges, bananas, and yes, at the base of Heartbreak Hill, small cups of ice cold beer. Many runners consumed some or all of the above. It needs to be pointed out that when the competitive level was stripped aside at the start of the race, all the rules of long distance running changed. There were no rules.

In a normal race, a runner draws inspiration from many sources, most of them internalized and well rehearsed. And when the pain begins, as it always does, you look around you. Invariably and tragically, many  runners are running for a loved one, torn away by the scourge of cancer. A man we pass laments the passing of his dog a week earlier. Another has a T-shirt that says -” If you think you are in pain, try chemo”. Of course there are many other shirts that are in a much lighter vein… some not fit for print! And then there are the bands. Rock, Country, Jazz, the Blues, Gospel, a 30 person drum group and of course, Elvis… and Santa Claus.

There are not many races where runners toss glasses of water in the faces of their fellow competitor, or dance on the road, or kiss the young women of Wellesley College. But as mentioned earlier, this race was about survival and the power of the human spirit. To be lifted up and carried on the shoulders of a million people is a spiritual experience that is very hard to articulate. The countless small acts of kindness extended by so many created a tidal wave of goodwill that was palpable.

They often speak of the “loneliness of the long distance runner” and most times that is true. But when you draw strength from family, friends, wellness providers ( physiotherapists, massage therapists, strength and flexibility coaches, yoga instructors ,physicians) , and complete strangers, anything is possible. An astonishing 96% of the runners who started the race, finished the race. And what was the most common sentiment at the end, besides relief? Gratitude. No one accomplishes anything in life alone. And when the human spirit is elevated to unprecedented heights, anything is possible.

A final passing note to fellow runners. You can run Boston or you can experience Boston –  or any other race for that matter .You can run your worst time and have your best experience. You don’t have to run fast to have a good time. Be grateful and blessed to have the health to do what you do.

Posted on April 15, 2013 under Storytelling with no comments yet

My heart is in Boston today. It is marathon Monday and several of my friends are running in this iconic race. I had the privilege of running in Boston in 2011 and 2012. It was an awesome experience. If you are a long distance runner, this is the ultimate goal.

Last year the temperature soared into the low ’90’s for the race. When I returned home, I penned a story about that experience which was published in three newspapers and The Running Room magazine. If I can find the original, I will post it later today. While the story is about running, it is much more than that.

The weather will be perfect in Boston today. Before the race begins ( around 10:30 Atlantic time ) I will hum a few bars of Neil Young’s tune ” Long May You Run”.

Best of luck to my fellow runners.

Posted on April 13, 2013 under Storytelling with 4 comments

We live in a small community and up until ten years ago or so, all stores, except pharmacies and convenience (corner) stores, were closed for business on Sundays.   Many shift workers and tourism operators exerted pressure on the provincial government to join other jurisdictions and open everything on Sundays.   Although this disappointed church officials and bootleggers, who both plied their trades on this “day of rest”, many people were happy with the change.  However, the corner store operators were concerned because, until that time, they had been the only show in town on the Lord’s Day.

Convenience store proprietors are an industrious, hard-working and creative lot.  Undeterred by this new threat, many did what any business does in hard times… adapt or close the doors.  Realizing that the status quo would not win the battle with large grocery chains, they went to their strengths; location, client service … and innovative partnerships.

The good news is that we have a convenience store within walking distance of our house.  The bad news is that this convenience store houses a bakery.  When you really need some milk or cat food in a hurry, there is no advantage in revving up the engine and driving three kilometers to save a few pennies. Especially with the price of gas.  However, it is very unsettling for a self-confessed sugar addict to have to pass the bakery to get to the groceries or cat food.  This problem will only resolve itself when our cat’s nine lives come to an end.   Or when my wife stops using  18% coffee cream.

When our kids were little we lived across the street from the store and were there so often that we had a charge account!  The store owner and staff and the bakery staff always felt like family.  Many of them have been there since the days that I actually had hair. They are uncommonly friendly and there is a lot of good natured ribbing going on all the time.

Did I mention the lemon meringue pies?

I know the baking schedule better than the bakery staff does so I try to avoid lemon pie day.  I am the only one in our house who eats sweets.  My wife is gluten free so buying an entire pie is usually reserved for when we have company.  They do sell it by the slice but I can’t see the point of that. I would just have to make several trips to the bakery instead of one stop shopping.

Today is Saturday, a non-lemon pie day, and no one is coming for supper.  However, the gravitational pull of the earth draws me into the bakery today for some inexplicable reason.  Maybe I am suffering from a Lent hangover when I gave up sweets for 40 days and 40 nights.  I gingerly make my way to the bakery counter and am devastated to find out that at this very moment, the lemon filling is cooking on the stove.  Which means the pies will be ready in about an hour.  Reserving a trip to Cuba is almost as exciting as reserving a lemon pie.

My sister also owns a convenience store but it is 10 kilometers away.  She also traffics sweets.

Client service.  Convenience.  Calories.  A winning combination if I ever saw one.