Monday, September 7, 2020

September 7, 2020 Blog Post #843 (I've earned the right to digress)

 Inspiration comes in many forms. One need only to Google "inspirational quotes" and dozens of websites with thousands of quotes can be viewed within seconds. All designed or intended to motivate us or make us feel better or simply help us improve ourselves.  Twitter provides the perfect opportunity for motivational or inspirational quotes.  Between the political and/or nonsensical musings you'll find there, some really refreshing and intelligent thoughts really do exist.  And honestly, if I see something that is appropriate for me and is well constructed and thoughtful, quite often I'm impacted by it.  But the old adage, "action speaks louder than words" is far more relevant to me when it comes to inspiration.   My parents and a couple of my friends provided that for me yesterday.

Yesterday, September 6 was the 16th anniversary of my Mother's passing, and it caused me to reflect a moment about her life.  She had grown up in a nice suburban town just west of Boston and attended parochial schools through high school before deciding to enter the convent in the hope of becoming a nun.  While a novitiate at the convent she became ill and left for what was to be a short time.  During her convalescence, she visited her best friend from high school who was at her family's summer cottage in Humarock, a beachfront community within the town of Scituate.  To anybody walking by as she and her friend sat out in the yard she looked like just another pretty 20 year old. Nobody could have guessed that within days she'd be returning to the convent where she would soon take her first vows to join her order.  Well, it just so happened the boy next door, who had just returned from Germany after being discharged from the Army, took notice of his neighbor's friend.  He had made plans with some of his own friends to drive to New York City for a well-deserved weekend of fun and excitement, but having merely seen the visitor next door called his friends to tell them he could not make the trip because in his words he had, "to meet the girl."  To make a long story short, the young man did get to meet the girl and over the next few days made quite an impact on her apparently.  Despite the disappointment and urging of her parents, Mom never returned to the convent.  She married Dad a year later, raised five sons with him during their 40 remarkably happy years together, and through her devotion to her husband and family has served as my inspiration my entire life.  It was her actions, more than any words she'd ever spoken to me that had the greatest effect on who I would become. 

I was with my Mother on the day of the Boston Marathon at some time during the mid 1970's after I'd been a distance runner for several years.  She was impressed with the determination it takes for an athlete, who first commits to the training required for the achievement, and then goes out and actually does it. I vividly recall telling her I would someday run the Boston Marathon. Though she smiled in return I expect some degree of skepticism was behind it.  And in fact it wasn't until 1982 that I actually ran my first Boston.  I was a bandit runner, along with a good friend with whom I trained, and finished in a less than stellar 3 hours 19 minutes, but I was so proud of that achievement which was made even more momentous by my Mother's pride.  I'd finally put my words into action and it remains one of the most memorable moments in my life.

Two of the women I trained for their first Boston Marathon some time ago ran their (albeit virtual) 13th consecutive Boston Marathon yesterday.  I ran my last one with them eight years ago, but their determination, dedication and perseverance were also on my mind early yesterday.  And perhaps inspired by their efforts and with the thoughts of my Mother on my mind, I decided then and there to do my own Marathon.  Now, as most of you know I don't really "run" any more, but I was inspired to do something, so I made the decision to ride my bike to the high school along a circuitous 10 mile route.  When I reached the school I completed 6 one mile loops with my customary .75 walk/.25 jog.  I then returned home by bike along the route I had taken earlier.  26 miles. Coincidentally 3 hours, 19 minutes.  I don't know if my Mother would be proud of my doing it but she would have had a laugh about her son, on the cusp of becoming a septuagenarian, “matching” his Marathon time of nearly 40 years ago. Had she known of my plan beforehand, in all likelihood she would have tried to persuade me to act my age, with the understanding that I, like her when she left the convent, would do precisely what I wanted to do and what I felt was right for me anyway.  She may have even responded with a sigh and her usual reaction when annoyed, “Oh, Stephen.”   But I do know that she would have been delighted that rather than talking about it, I went out and did what I had to do.  Something she herself did from the moment she met my Father. Thanks for the inspiration Mom!  Love you, miss you. 

 


No comments:

Post a Comment