I ran 6 miles in 57 minutes this morning after 2 large cups of coffee and 3 even larger glasses of wine the night before. The highlight of this run was not the pace (9:30min/mile) or the not-so-mere act of completion after a late night; nor was it the warm morning that made me regret my choice to leave the shorts at home or the the "run of shame" I saw heading up Front Street in his black popped collar, going-out-jeans and black buckle shoes.
No, the highlight came at about Mile 3.25, as I left the Sugarhouse Casino and made the turn back along the Delaware River toward my neighborhood. An older runner, probably in his late 60's, and moving much faster than I was, looked at me, smiled and gave me a two-fingered, slightly peace sign of a wave over his right shoulder as he passed. It struck me that, even though I was the only one on the sidewalk and I was running right at him, I was still shocked at this small kindness from a complete stranger. This, my friends, is at the heart of the runner's wave. Running may be between you and the road, but the familiarity among runners and our community that is disjointed but tangible should not be easily overlooked.
Although not every runner participates in this gesture and, admittedly, I've only given this particular wave a handful of times and feel much more comfortable with a mutual exchange of smiles, it is a nicety I think I want to try a little more often. Mostly, the wave is received from the old timers and given in return to their acknowledgment of a younger runner. On my next run, I'm going to change that with a few well-placed waves along the way; hoping all the while that someone will notice, just as I did today, and pay it forward.
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