Routine 16 miler today from Murray Park to downtown and back to the park, but that's not the point. Today's point was about being there for someone.
You guys may have seen the news reports about the beautiful young TV anchorwoman who was beaten to death in her home recently in Little Rock. I never knew the late Anne Pressly, but one of her fellow reporters at Channel 7, the local ABC affiliate, is one of my running buddies. I saw Michelle last Saturday before the half-marathon, while Anne was still clinging to life, and she told me she had a lot of things to run out that morning. She, too, ran a PR in that race. A few hours later, Anne finally succumbed to her injuries.
This morning, I wasn't sure if Michelle would be out there for the Saturday Crackhead run. I hoped she would. I had e-mailed her earlier in the week to express my condolences and had not gotten a reply, which was completely understandable, and it also would have been completely understandable if she decided not to run. So I was glad when she pulled her car into the parking spot next to mine at 5:50 this morning at Murray Park. Then she told me she was also running 16 miles today, and that her normal Saturday running partner was out of town. That's it, I said to myself, I'm running with her. I bet she doesn't feel like being alone right now. Turns out I was right. Not only was she a friend and coworker of Anne's but she's also young and single, and she's still more than a little frightened that the perp is still at large.
So we set out together and ran four miles into downtown Little Rock, which was the first extended conversation we've had. We talked about Anne, and my time working for the same TV station 30 years ago as a statistician on basketball telecasts, and our performances in the half at Conway, and her feelings in the past two weeks since Anne was attacked. And she thanked me for the e-mail. Then, as we got into downtown, three cars pulled alongside us. It was Coach Tom and some of the other Crackheads, who drove down to join Michelle for the final 12 miles of the run. They parked and got out, and I could have gone on ahead, but I decided to stay with the group. And we ran 12 miles together.
When we finished, we walked around a bit to cool down, and Michelle again thanked me for the e-mail and for running with her. I told her that Crackheads look out for each other. My wife texted me to ask about the run, and I told her about running with Michelle, and she asked me to give Michelle her love and a virtual hug. So I did, along with a real hug of my own.
I feel much better about being there for a friend than I do about the run. I know Michelle appreciated it, and I know she and Tom and the other Crackheads would be there for me if I were in need. Crackheads really do look out for each other. I'm not a very social guy, but I value my membership in that band of nutcases. We're connected by a common obsession, but that obsession also connects us at a deeper level. We're linked by shared suffering, I guess, sort of what war veterans who faced death together share; obviously not to the level of those who have faced enemy fire, but those who have battled themselves and the frailty of their bodies and their desire to do anything except continue to put one foot down in front of the other. | 