I’ve been
thinking about marathons lately. I’ll explain why in a bit, but first to the
brainstorming. I’ve realized that I’m no stranger to long races. I teach, after
all, and the school year is nothing if not a marathon. Twelve months are
condensed into ten, complete with opening-day jitters, ambitious autumn months,
sluggish winter days, and a wall of fatigue that must be overcome to reach the
spring homestretch. By the time June arrives, my colleagues and I are exhausted
from running these many miles at a sprinter’s pace.
I also
follow baseball closely, and the ol’ ballgame is the marathon of team sports. A
month and a half of spring training is followed by six months and 162
regular-season games, followed again by a month in which the championship team
plays anywhere from 11 to 20 postseason games. When the season ends in late
October, some players will have suited up for nearly 200 games of nine innings
or more. Those of us who play and follow baseball have learned the importance
of patience, both within a single game and within a long season.
Beyond the
game, I’m also married, and that ring I wear represents a marathon of a different
sort. It’s one with challenges and joys I cannot anticipate, but which I also
can’t navigate safely without being present, patient and passionately in love
with my wife. There’s nothing more difficult than growing up with someone, but
marriage is just that. We’re not the same couple we were in 1995, but it’s kind
of amazing to look back and know that my wife and I have been running this race
together for almost 18 years.
The
marathon of parenting is perhaps the most difficult of all, as you have less control
over where that race goes. You give everything you have along the way, and
sometimes it feels as if you’re running with the weight of the world (or at
least a couple of kids) on your shoulders. And then, after all the miles of
nurturing, you realize at a certain point that you must let go. You stay ready
and willing to parent when needed, but you also realize that it’s time to step
back and let them run free.
Life itself,
of course, is the grand marathon, the one we are running, walking, skipping or
crawling through each day. This is the mystery race, as we don’t get to pick
the distance. Perhaps it will be 88 years, as it was for my grandfather, who
would have turned 95 today. Or perhaps it will be a much shorter 42 years, as
it was for my dear childhood friend David Ross, who passed away on Monday. We
get what we get in this life, and we hope we can spend it enriching the lives
of others – which both my grandfather and David managed to do in abundance.
I’m
thinking in all these marathon metaphors because I’m running a literal marathon
this year. I’m training for the New York City Marathon, which I have long
dreamed of running. I’ll traverse the five boroughs on the first Sunday in
November as part of the Arthritis Foundation’s marathon team. I’m using my race
to raise money for this organization’s enormously important work. My mom has
had rheumatoid arthritis for almost four decades – a marathon much more
impressive than anything I’m doing. She’s kept her spirits high and inspired
others during her race, so the least I can do is jog for a few hours in honor
of her.
We try, as
we move along this road of life, to make meaningful connections before we reach
the finish line. It’s what makes it all worthwhile, from the grueling stretches
to the steady miles to the moments of euphoria. In the spirit of marathons,
life and connections, I’m going to take a moment to share with you the link to
my marathon page. If you’d like to make a donation to the Arthritis Foundation,
you can do so there – and if you do, I thank you so much. Meanwhile, let me hit
the road again, and let us all continue the many marathons of life.
www.afmarathon.kintera.org/warrenhynes
1 comment:
What can I say that I haven't already about the way you move your readers with your incredible style.
Your mom has been an inspiration to my family and I for decades. She amazes us at every turn with her incredible spirit, uplifting ways, and triumph through her daily trials of living with such a dibilitating arthritis. You'd never know it by her demeanor.
I am so sad for those who lost David way too soon, especially his mother. My mom said there were so many young people in attendance at his services, a testament to how much he gave of himself to them over the years and how much he was respected and loved.
Congrats on your determination to run that marathon...I'll go visit your page now :-)
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