Two Poignant Events--Blessings of Cumulative and Singular Presence

I am someone who thrives on trying to make a difference for others.  Some days, I just focus on making a difference but there are no words spoken about it.  That is okay.  From day to day the difference can be small, and I am simply hoping that over time the difference will add up to something that is big and notable.  Other times, there will be a singular event that makes a difference to someone and I get to know right away. 

It’s not every day I get either type of feedback—the cumulative or the immediate.  Yesterday, I was lucky enough to get both.

It started even before my run, and I run early.  I’ve run with the same dear friend nearly every Tuesday going back more than two years and most Tuesdays going back more than four.  On the weeks we can’t fit in a run on Tuesday, we often find a way to adapt our schedules and fit in a run on another day.  Last week she shared with me a heartbreaking diagnosis for her three year old dog.  Over the years I have written words of thanks, words of encouragement, and words of congratulations.  Last week, I put pen to paper (yes, I really did before typing it up) and wrote words about dealing with grief that will come at some point.  Even my words acknowledged I can’t fix the grief, but I can be present.  The type of presence that is needed will be determined by my friend.  I have not put any words to a tune in a long time.  So, not only did I share the words (put on a background that ended up in my phone photo album for no apparent reason), but I also used my friend’s acoustic guitar for a little accompaniment.  It was an emotional moment before our run, and she was thankful.  I am blessed to be surrounded by friends who are empathetic and who join together to make each other’s days brighter. This is part of my purpose for being alive.

Then, at the close of the day, when clearing some email, I found a note in my Inbox.  It was from the last PhD student for whom I had been an academic advisor at the school of public health before I moved to the business school within the university for which I work.  I had been at his dissertation defense just the day before.  He thanked me for introducing him to a particular research area and for being a good mentor.  I actually hadn’t expected such thanks.  I had handed him off to another advisor when I switched schools.  I had sometimes taken a long time to get back to him.  But he saw the glass being half full rather than half empty.  Rather than looking at what I had not done, he noticed what I had introduced him to,  what I had pointed out while he was working on his dissertation, and what advice I had been able to give him.  In other words, he focused on my presence rather than on my absence, and being acknowledged as a mentor is always humbling.

I realize not every day will be accompanied by two events as poignant as yesterday.  But days like yesterday are the days that allow me to clearly see the return on the investment I make in my efforts to brighten others’ worlds.

Highest Compliment

So, I received what I count as one of the biggest compliments I have ever received last night.  I was at the annual gala event for Back on My Feet, Baltimore.  It it referred to as a bash.  People come in suits and other non-casual clothing but with running shoes.  It's a fun time.  

I've only been to two of the seven that Back on My Feet, Baltimore has had but the director (and now executive director) was the same person at both.  She is a running mentor.  She has become a dear friend.  And she was a former part-time MPH student whom I advised.

Last night, I was able to compare her presentations at the event to how she had presented several years back.  Several years ago she was great.  But she spoke at an incredibly fast pace.  Last night her poise, serenity, and sense of presence had matured incredibly since the last time I saw her present.  It was wonderful for someone who had been her academic advisor and one of her many mentors on the professional development side see that maturation process in action.

Afterwards, I mentioned it to be her and her husband.  She thanked me.  That provided an uplifting feeling.  But what made me stop and catch my breath was when her husband thanked me and told me what a difference he knew I'd made in her development.  Sure, I've had an occasional parent tell me at a graduation ceremony about how I made a difference for a doctoral student in their dissertation or something like that. But to have someone, eighteen months after the student graduated, point out that they could see how I made a difference for the student during the time I worked with the student (which was three years in the part-time program) was truly an incredible, delightful, and overwhelming experience.  Then he went on to say something to the effect that I had probably had a bigger influence on most of my students than I would ever realize.

Maybe I have.  Perhaps someday I'll hear that.  Perhaps it will remain unsaid until a retirement celebration or memorial service someday.  Perhaps the thoughts will remain in the hearts and minds of those I've advised.  In fact, I'd have no problem with that outcome.  Because I know that I have done the best I can for each student in that type of position.  And that is all anyone can ever ask of me.

But to have even one person point it out made it more real.  And made my hopeful that my difference in the world will not be confined just to those I touch directly.  But that it may make a difference to many people separated from me by one or two or three connections.  

And that is not to get big headed about it.  Just to recognize it. Be thankful for it.  And go on doing the best I can for each person with whom I interact in the amazing life with which I have been blessed.

Last Boston Marathon Entry for a While

On the day of the Boston Marathon this year, I just ran 6 general maintenance miles.  Nice and easy.  Just above an 8:30 pace on average.  Puts me at 641.4 miles total.  Leaves me in Bloomfield, IN, on County Road 400 N on my virtual pilgrimage.

Then, I followed 13 runners.  When I wrote on Saturday, I had only realized I knew 10. In the end, I actually new at least 16.  In any case, I followed 13.  All 13 finished.  All 13 were safe.

Yesterday, it was great to see an American win one of the great American races.  I rarely get so "Go America" but this was a great day for running in the US.  It was an even more exciting day for older runners in the US as the winner, Meb, is 38.  I was 40 when I ran my first.  Just amazing to see what a 38 year old can still do.  The last time an American won--when I was 13.  

Two 13's.  Where does that leave my pondering.  Back at the start of my finding meaning in numbers in running.  My first marathon when I was runner number 1313.  When a cousin encouraged me to think of a Bible verse, and I came up with 1 Cor 13:13:

So faith, hope, love remain, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

Yesterday was a day for runners in general to show their brotherly love for each other.  Yesterday was a day for non-runners to show runners their love and compassion as so many dealt with memories and emotions from last year.  Yesterday was a day for runners to show their love of facing a challenge and having a winning human spirit. 

Of the runners I followed, I know at least one was very happy with his race.  Others had very splits that simply reflected either the warm weather or how challenging the second half of the race is.  The runner among the 13 I followed with whom I have done the most miles had the worst time.  (I hope that the miles we have run together was not a jinx.)  The app I had gave me updates on everyone's times passing every 5K and the half marathon mark.  Early in the race, the runner I eventually had to wonder about was running side by side with another teammate from Back on My Feet.  Their times suggested that they were strong.  Then, the one I was following most closely began to fall back and ended finishing in over four hours, complaining of serious cramping around the hamstrings.  That would not be good.  

I thought out how I would have reacted if my finishing pace was not just 56 seconds too slow to requalify and about 6 minutes over what I was shooting for, but at a pace 2 minutes per mile above what I was hoping for.  The answer?  I honestly have no way of knowing.  The answer I would like to think I would have?  "At least I finished.  And now I know how long it takes to get from Hopkinton to Boylston Street.  I worked to qualify to prove I could do it.  I did it.  And if I ever return, I'll have something to compare with.  But I proved to myself and I proved to the world, that I can do this.  And that is all that matters."

Maybe easier to say when I was only about 10 seconds per mile slower than planned last year.  But life is full of lessons.  And I'm sure this is one of them for my friend who called me mentor.  I'll eventually ask the other runner what the lesson was.  I just know that this runner should be proud regardless.  Job well done.  Mission accomplished.  Sure the outcome can be refined and impoved. But the mission was accomplished.     

Understanding

My goal at the end of last year was to write 100 words (or more) per day.  Today, I am thinking about  understanding.

The first thing about understanding today came from my thirteen year old.  He made an interesting observation this evening.  He pointed out that he understood how I felt the other morning when I came home and proclaimed how good my bagels were after a run.  I was very excited because I had run 5+ miles for the first time in more than a week.  I was also very excited because it was the best bagel recipe I had made.  I felt energy and excitement and shared it with everyone in the house.  No one else was sharing either my energy or my excitement.  My thirteen year old acknowledged that this evening and pointed out that his excitement comes from gardening.  He ended up saying that if everyone just understood that everyone else gets excited about different things it would help to show appreciation for each other and each other's interests and help each of us in the family to be supportive of others.  Quite a nice perception for a thirteen year old.

Understanding also was part of my day in three other ways.

First, I ran with just one fellow runner rather than our usual large track/tempo group.  I appreciated the company and it gave us a chance to chat and catch up more than we had in a while.  It was nice to get an understanding of issues each faces coming up and to deal with one fitness issue--Charlie horses.  Increasing understanding of that will be helpful for me.

Second, I met with an undergraduate to discuss her interests in health promotion and public health.  It was fun to share my knowledge and to gain an understanding of the student's interests.  Understanding here will hopefully lead the student to a more informed choice about graduate school and career choices and gave me a great chance to understand what issues undergrads are dealing with these days.

Third, I had an opportunity to look over a colleague's list of accomplishments from last year.  As someone I am mentoring, it is important to me to understand what this colleague is doing and what this colleague plans to do in the future for future success.

So many different ways of understanding.  Each is critical to relating to people.  Each is critical to being part of a family or being a friend or being a mentor.  Each is critical to working with others--which is one of the most important parts of what I do.  

Ambiguity

Ambiguity can sometimes be a very hard thing to deal with.  It makes my life difficult.  It makes me struggle.  It leaves me with no easy answers.

And yet for many of the same reasons, ambiguity can be a great thing.  Things that are hard to deal with make me stronger when I get through them.  Things that are difficult are there to be struggled with.  Struggle helps to define our lives as many of the best things are things that are had to struggle through.  Having no easy answers makes me think and think hard--which I enjoy.  I don't always come up with insightful or incredible answers.  

Ambiguity has much variability.  Sometimes the thinking is not for a matter or moments or hours but weeks, months, or even years to sort through something.  Sometimes the ambiguity is only a small amount and at first glance after which something becomes perfectly clear.  In other cases, there really is an ambiguity that lasts nearly forever.

I thought of ambiguity yesterday after my run.  It was an example of short ambiguity, thankfully.  It is interesting to ponder why there was any ambiguity on  day when I ran what will be listed as my fastest half marathon to date and on a day on which I brought home a trophy for being the first co-ed relay team?  Both of those are very happy things.  And for both of those unambiguous things, I am grateful.

The first ambiguity I think about was with my running--despite the positive outcome.  Did I go out too fast?  Did I think about it too much and look at my watch too much rather than just running what felt like the right pace (particularly slower at the start) and see what happened?  It may have been my best race but it didn't feel like a great race?  What lessons were there to learn even on the day when I had the best time I'd ever had at that particular distance?  How did I reach the finish line at my best pace despite feeling an incredible struggle in the middle and toward the end of the race?  How had my minor GI issue in the middle of the week affected my race performance? Had it affected my race at all?  What did it mean that I needed so much fluid after the race to feel balanced?

I always have to remind myself that on any given day we have to take what comes when we get our opportunity to run.  And to paraphrase my friend after the race, "All I can do is give the best effort on a given day."  And, in that, there was no ambiguity.  I did what I could.  It may not have been the smartest, most strategic, most satisfying race, but it was my best effort.

The team name indicates ambiguity.  The team name was "Who's the Mentor?"  A play on the fact that my teammate has mentored me about working with men in residential rehabilitation programs and who has mentored me about running.  And the fact that I have mentored her about public health professional issues and at least served as an one example of someone who has managed 20+ years of marriage with three amazing children for she and her husband who just got married back in September.  Perhaps an even more apt name for the team would have been "Who's the Bigger Mentor?"  Because clearly each of us has made an impact on the life of the other in the way the friends and colleagues can.  The opportunity to see how any two people interact can be an incredible revelation into how people teach each other and how people learn from each other.  Student and advisor.  Child and parent.  Husband and wife.  The ambiguity of the roles is an exciting and an amazing part of life.

The interesting thing about yesterday's vulnerability is that it was short lasting.  I can turn it into analysis.  I can learn some lessons and move on.  I can write about it and let it go.  Writing is often good for setting my mind free of an issue.

It is not spiritual ambiguity or ethical ambiguity or any of the really difficult things to deal with.

Instead, yesterday's ambiguity is something that was just a reminder of the many times and ways in whichI can learn lessons.  The many ways in which there is ambiguity.

The many ways that I struggle with self-criticism.

The many ways that I have grown and continue to grow as I understand what I have to offer and what my limits are.  

More Mentoring from Those I've Mentored

Yesterday, I wrote about the clever name of the two person marathon relay team I'll br running as a part of in November--Who's the Mentor?--with the reason for this name.  After I wrote, I went to the Y and did 5 miles at 6:40 pace for each mile with 1/4 mile job in between each.  Was that the fastest I've ever run five miles?  No. Was it the best I've ever felt?  No. Was it easier on a treadmill than it would have been outside on a track?  Yes.  But none of that mattered.  It was all about just getting back out there and starting over again getting ready for my next race.  Just as I had talked about yesterday.  Today, also in a move that I consider wise, I'm taking a day off from exercise--or at least a morning.  I may go to the Y later this evening for some biking or rowing before tomorrow's run.  Success doesn't come without some effort--even for those willing to get right back up again.

In any case, I had yet another example of being mentored by someone I had mentored yesterday--even though the person I'd mentored hadn't necessarily intended what she wrote as a mentoring experience. Here is just a part of her post yesterday morning, 

Your sharing a slice of your life or story with someone does not automatically entitle him or her to pass judgment or have an opinion you must observe. Never give someone the power to disempower you in your own life, by discounting what you bring to a table or discrediting your potential.

I read this and the rest of her post and thought about my decision to stay away from posting in Facebook for two months.  A decision driven by my dislike for what I perceived as incivility from both sides of a political argument.  So far, I have gone three entire days without a post (I have been reading a bit but not posting).  No pictures of food.  No fun stories about my boys.  No stories of my boys cooking dinner either with me or for me.  Nothing about running--not even the results of a race I'd planned all summer for.  No comments on my friends' posts.  Nothing.  Silence.  As planned.  

Is it okay?  Well, it is definitely a different way of interacting with the world.  And, I am okay with it as I have chosen new ways to interact with the world.  I have sent emails about running to those with who I care about exchanges about running.  For example, I have sent emails of thanks to all those who helped me along the way (and whose names I know) from Sunday's race.  I have continued with my blog and tweeting and posting to Google+ even if I don't share it with Facebook.  

Facebook is just one forum for sharing a slice of my life and my story with others.  It is not the only forum.  It may not even be the best forum--particularly for certain topics like politics.  Sometimes asynchronous communication--particularly among a diverse group of friends of mine who don't necessarily know each other--can be very damaging as there is no change to explain, the level of "shouting" goes up exponentially, and the discussion just disintegrates.

Later in the day, the same person I had mentored before put up a post about professional disappointment.  Even though I am no longer formally her mentor, I wrote back to her about professional disappointment continuing  throughout one's career.  The exact topic changes, just the theme changes a bit.  I shared with her a story about a situation in which some of my colleagues seem to think that teaching is a zero sum game while others try to think about teaching as an activity in which there can be mutual benefit from courses that slightly overlap and that build a greater whole.

So, whether it is about sharing a slice of my life or sharing my teaching, I have to remember that as the person I'd mentored before posted at the close of her earlier post yesterday (and shifting from third person to first person), "I have the power to dictate who has power in my life; I need to be judicious and discerning. [I need to] Use it for good and don't let anyone stop me."  As I continue to work with colleagues on building up the best education program we can within the context of where I work and as I continue to share on Facebook after the election, I will have to decide whether (and how) to let people in who have proven to be barriers to my healthy and positive view of the world.  Is there any easy answer to that?  No.  My I hurt and hurt others?  Yes. But for my long term health and sanity, some choices must be made.  

Who's the Mentor?

You may be asking whether this is a question I am posing seriously or something else?  And in relation to what?  Well, it is the name of the two person relay team I am participating in on Thanksgiving weekend.  Last year, I ran a full marathon that weekend and was blessed enough to almost qualify for Boston.  That is when my idea of my first tattoo (and its eventual evolution toward St. Sebastian and Irene) began.

This year, I will be running on the same course, but as part of a two person relay team that will run that distance.  I'll run half. My teammate will run half.  We registered as a team called, "Who's the Mentor?"

Why?

Well, for the past year and some, I have been a professional for her.  I won't claim to be the only as I imagine she has some mentors within the organization for which she works.  I have been her mentor with respect to public health and economics and her MPH studies.  As someone who is already married with kids (with her about to get married) I have also tried to be a good example (although I would not necessarily claim mentor) about life in general.  Work-life balance.  Doing what you love and loving what you do.  And so on.

She has been my running mentor.  I have seen her struggle.  Not with every race, but with some races, starting last Labor Day.  She has had a year of a few downs and mostly ups (at least in the races in which I have crossed paths with her).  Despite any downs here and there she always comes back.  And, I take a few lessons from that:

(1) Never give up.  I don't think I do, but she has set a great example of how not to give up and how keeping on coming back can lead to even better things eventually.

(2) Fix what's wrong.  She identified what her issues were for running and she fixed them.  That has made her an even stronger runner as far as I can tell.  This is a lesson I should take after a summer of runs that were by no means bad but were not quite what I'd expected.

(3) Be confident.  This is not to say act prideful.  This is not to say, act "cocky".  This is just to say that when I have done all the work and I know I can finish--I should never let that thought leave my mind.

(4) Be generous.  She not only participates in running--she gives through her running. She encourages others.  She is there for others.  I try to be as well.  I certainly do so on the academic side of the world.  I just have to remember that not only is there more to life in general than academics, but there is more to being a good person and all that God has called me to be than academics.

(5) Be thankful.  My teammate never fails to thank anyone she runs with--as far as I can tell.  Whether it is a workout on the track.  A long slow distance run.  A tempo run.  Anywhere, anytime.  She thanks those around her who help her have positive experiences in the world.  I try to do so, but I don't think I remember all the time.

Moving forward, if I follow the five points above--even better than I am following them now--even if I never have another lifetime personal best time at any distance--I will be a better runner, a better person, and someone who enjoys my running and life more as I bring a positive attitude to my little corner of the world.

I hope I can live up to it.