The Thing About that Penny
I am incredibly grateful to be in the recovery stage of an overuse injury in my legs — no doubt it’s connected to what my wife would describe as my compulsive running over the past 17 years. She’s not wrong.
I love a routine and, as I’ve continued to get healthier, I’ve developed one that involves getting up at about 5 AM and taking my dog on a one mile walk around lower Manhattan. One of my favorite parts of this routine is stopping at my corner coffee cart and getting a cup of coffee. My dog and I go at an easy pace that allows me to sip my drink and keep control of Chris (yes, that’s really my dog’s name).
This experience also reminds me what I love about being back in New York after nearly six years of living in a small town in Florida. Where else could you be up at 5 AM and you’re not even close to the person who’s been up the longest? I feel particularly appreciative when we walk along the river and look across at the bright lights of Brooklyn. When we do this, and it’s just me, Chris and that great big landscape, including the Welcome sign that stands out so boldly, I feel especially lucky to be in this City.
Anyway, today’s walk was pretty typical until Chris stopped to do his business — no need to be more graphic. As I bent down to bag it, I noticed a shiny new penny a few feet away. I immediately thought to myself; there must be something to this little irony. A shiny new penny near, let’s call it, Chris’s thing. I picked up the penny and put it in my vest pocket. There must be a metaphor in all this. Good and bad. Shiny, new vs….And on it went. Even as I write this a few hours later, it seems like something big should be afoot here.
I continued to think about this as we made our way home. Nothing much came to me. I settled on the fact that perhaps there was no big thing there. Or, as they say in the news “there was no there, there.” It was simply someone’s dropped penny next to a dog’s number 2. No deeper meaning. I was content to leave it there. Or so I thought…
The next part of this recovery routine is going for a run. I am so happy to be back to this activity which has been such a staple of my life since 2006. I’ve been running every other day now for about the past four weeks. While I’m not pushing myself, I am back to alternating between easy, hard and long runs. Today’s schedule called for hard (for me picking up my pace).
I went out way too hard for me. I know from experience when I’m doing this and my body showed up to remind me as well. I quickly developed a nosebleed about a mile in (this has happened in the past too). I realized I needed to find something to hold while stopping the bleeding so I reached in my pocket and found two things: Chris’s collection bags which I always keep with me…and that new penny.
I found a seat on the outside stairs of a downtown hotel and sat, clenching my nose with the help of one of Chris’s bags. I also stared down at the penny. I realized I had a choice to make. I could simply turn around and go back home; give it up and call it a day. Or, once my bleed stopped, I could continue my run and see what might be possible.
I decided to continue but dial it back a good bit on my pace. After this little stop/start again, it turned out to be one of my better runs since getting back to it. I wish I could tell you that I was re-inspired because I looked down at that penny. I could boldly say that I realized we can always start new…or we can make our lemons out of the lemonade — and on I could go with the cliches. I won’t torture you like that if you’ve been kind enough to read this overly detailed post. That just didn’t happen. I really just felt like seeing if I could run more.
But on reflection, maybe, just maybe there was something there. A there was there. Thinking about the work I have the privilege of doing, there have been lots of highs and lows. There have been some real number 2 moments — along with some shiny pennies. But the bottom line is, much like running, it just feels right. It’s what I love to do and lets me be who I am. So, even with a couple of nosebleeds and the need to pull to the side every now and then, I enjoy the journey. As Joshua Medcalf so smartly reminds us in a favorite book, I get to keep Chopping Wood and Carrying Water.
