Monday, March 2, 2015

I haven't run much lately but I just renewed my membership in the Prospect Park Track Club

Apparently I am inspirational.

Last week I couldn't make it to my track club's awards dinner because, well, I don't go out much. In past years I won awards for completing ultra marathons and for service to the club. This year they made up a new award just for me, I was most inspirational. I didn't see that coming, I didn't want to win any awards, so much so that I didn't enter the essay contest until after the awards dinner.

Below is the essay I wrote after awards were given out for best essay.




I didn’t want to enter an Essay contest because I already won.

Back in the early 90s there was no 9+1 program to get you into the New York City Marathon. There was a lottery system and the patronage system. It was a little bit about getting lucky and a lot about who you knew. That’s why I joined the Prospect Park track club, so I could get into the New York City Marathon.

So I figured if I’m going to rely on these people to get me into The Marathon should at least go to a meeting. The first meeting I went to was unlike any meeting of the Prospect Park Track Club ever had after that. It was the first meeting after the death of Harry Murphy. The club was deciding whether or not it should go on without him. It did, and I decided I wanted to be part of this organization.

The club turned out to be a very good fit for me. I was accepted as a mid-pack runner.  When my kids started school, I had more time in my life and I found that I enjoyed volunteering more. This volunteering even turned into part-time jobs. Then my immune system attacked my nervous system.

I learned a lot of things really fast.  I learned a lot about biology and a lot about health insurance, but I also learned that I had friends. I thought that I had people that I run with and sometimes went out for coffee with.  But it turned out that I had a lot of friends.  A lot of really good friends.

You know who you are. You spent time with me, left me voice mails, sent me emails, friended me on Facebook, brought me edible food, or toys that I couldn’t even play with. You brought me news and messages from the world outside the hospital.

Thank you, your friendship was reward enough, I didn’t want to win an essay contest to say that I won something.


1 comment:

You do not have to be nice!

This is not me

This is not me
Not me.

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