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Dave Griffin On Running
The Carroll County Times – Sunday, May 11, 2008
This past week, I had one of the best runs I have had in a long time. There was almost no pain from my stubborn injuries and my legs were smooth and free. It felt good to open up and run fast.
Whenever I have a run like that, my mind turns to competition. I start to think about my past success and dream about what might be possible if the injuries would loosen their hold on me.
My son, Paul, runs too, but he’s never had the competitive nature of his old man. So far, he’s been more than willing to accept whatever running has offered him.
I was still thinking about my encouraging run when I got the phone call. Paul was ill and on his way to the emergency room. Before I could come to terms with what was happening, we were in route to Johns Hopkins hospital where Paul could be better cared for.
The days that followed were filled with uncomfortable waiting as the doctors tried to figure out just what was making Paul sick. In those days, running hardly crossed my mind. It was only in the relief of learning that Paul was going to be fine that I packed a running bag one morning as I prepared to head down to the hospital.
That afternoon, Paul was asleep when I went outside to run a few miles. It was a different kind of run; I’m not use to city noise and endless concrete. I passed hundreds of people but didn’t find one kindred running spirit, though I searched several times as I jogged in place waiting for traffic to pass.
I ran the city blocks around the hospital several times before I began to relax, and by the time the run was over I felt a peaceful calm that I desperately needed.
I wiped the sweat from my face as I walked back inside. I moved through the hallways and towards my son, thinking about how blessed I’ve been to have him in my life.
Things were hectic when he was young, but he had a way of reminding me to appreciate simply joy. I remember the belly laugh the lured me to play and the innocent wonder that led me to slow down and explore beside him.
It seems a bit ironic that he’s taught me so much about life. After all, I thought I was supposed to be the teacher in the relationship. And, while I’ve tried to share whatever wisdom I have to offer, his lessons to me have been just as valuable, if not more so.
When I walked back into his hospital room, Paul was still sleeping. I stared for a few minutes and whispered a quiet thank you.
I know myself too well to think I’m ready to stop dreaming about running faster, but it’s a dream that can’t live forever. When I’m finally ready to let it go, I’ll take an easy run and try to keep it all in perspective, and it will really help if Paul’s there running beside me.