Run, Kyle, Run

In April of 2008, my wife, Amanda, and I trained for and ran the Big D Marathon in Dallas.  In the four years since, we have each taken a different path with our running.

Amanda got the bug while we were training for Big D.  She loves running.  She absolutely, without a doubt found a passion for it.  Since Big D, she has run two more fulls (White Rock, San Diego Rock 'n' Roll), nine halves and a handful of 5K and 10K's.  She's extremely good at it and aspires to be better.  In fact, after taking a full nine months off for pregnancy, Amanda came back to running just over 9 minute miles.  Her goal is to qualify for and complete in the biggest one of them all:  the Boston Marathon.  I have zero doubt that she'll not only qualify, but rock its northeastern socks off!

I took a different path.  I have had a volatile, love / hate relationship with running.  Despite that, since Big D, I've run two halves and a handful of smaller races.  5K's are my sweet spot since they don't really quire much training, I get a shirt, and I don't get passed by as many children, guys in Elvis costumes and barefoot senior citizens as I do in a full marathon.

In fact, I even won a 5K.  Yup.  I won one.  Well, I won my age division.  It was the 2010 Snowman Shuffle at White Rock Lake in Dallas.  It was a particularly cold January, and that morning, the temperature was 12 degrees with a windchill of zero.  This apparently kept a lot of people at home, because when they read off the top three finishers in my division, they stopped at second place.  There were only two of us.  But you know what?  I beat that one other dude, and I've got the medal to prove it.

But, I digress.

My love / hate relationship with running confused me until this past fall as I was training for the Tour des Fleurs 10K (which, annoyingly, I wasn't able to run due to a mountain bike accident on the trail).  I finally realized the part of running that I love.

My wife loves running.

I love having ran.

Once I finally pinpointed that, my training changed.  That also led to the realization that I don't like running with a watch, GPS, or any other device for measurement.  I plan my route on MapMyRun.com, look at the clock when I leave the house, turn on the iPod and hit the road.  I found that when I took off the watch, my times and performance actually got better.  I started listening to by body and how hard it said I can push instead of letting the clock dictate my run.  That was liberating, to say the least.

My wife loves her Garmin Forerunner 405CX.  Not my style!

The other thing that changed, was, as I mentioned, understanding what I like about running.  I love the feeling   of the last mile, the last 100 yards, and then finally, stopping.  The end justifies the means, which on mornings like this past Saturday, are particularly unpleasant.

When I woke up at 5:45 on Saturday, it was 32 degrees outside.  My schedule said 5 miles on it, so that's what I was going to do.  I made the decision to test my ability to handle the cold, so I went with shorts.  Running shorts, by the way, are not terribly long.  But, it turned out that after the second mile the cold air was actually refreshing.  One thing about running is learning your body and how you react to weather.  If my core is warm, the rest of me is good.  My wife, on the other hand, is all about her extremities.  Her hands and feet are key.  My trusty Brooks half-zip mock shell thing kept my core toasty, so to my surprise, everything else was fine.

But, again, I digress.  I braved the cold, the early start time, and the mileage because I knew how good I would feel when I got back home and had my five miles in before most people even woke up.  Now, five miles in the course of training for a marathon is the tip of the iceberg.  We're currently training for the Dallas Rock 'n' Roll half in April, which will have me going up to twelve miles.  Halves, though, aren't too bad.  They're long enough to be challenging, but not so long that they're miserable.

If you're thinking about running your first race, pick one of the Rock 'n' Roll series.
You won't be disappointed.

My real test with my theories and motivation and training will be this summer.  I'm going to be training for another full - most likely my last - in the form of the 2012 New York Marathon.  Second only to Boston, the NY Marathon is a dream that most runners have at some point or another.  It doesn't require qualifying, but it does have a lottery to get in (last I read, there's 30,000 spots for 120,000 applicants).  Luckily, I'm in, so this is the year I'll put another 26.2 under my belt.

I've heard the NY Marathon is an absolutely amazing way to see New York City.  The course goes through all five boroughs, across a couple bridges and gives you a pedestrian view where pedestrians typically aren't.  However, I'm not particularly excited about 16 to 23 mile training runs around White Rock Lake in the Texas summer heat.  Those are the types of runs that you either get done before the temperature goes up at 8:30, or you try again the next day.

But, I guess, with everything I've learned about myself and running, I just need to focus on crossing that finish line in Central Park.

That's when the training, the travel and the hours on the road will all be worth it.

Wulfgang William

So this rambling comes to you from an experience that I had about six months ago ago. I'm reminded of it because today found me up early to fly to Phoenix and now up late to return to Dallas. (Note to self: don't make day trips out West. The time lost coming home is a killer.)

This story comes to you from my first week long training trip for CareerBuilder. You can think of it as boot camp for CB rookies. It was intense, with 8 hours of classroom work every day and a couple hours of homework each night. The training was solid, but long. The fact that I'm not used to traveling and being away from my wife and dog made the week even longer. 

Needless to say, by the time I got to the airport on Friday, I was very ready to get home. It had been a long week, my brain was fried, and I was ready to sleep in my bed.

As I sat in Chicago's O'Hare Airport waiting for my flight, I realized that I was starving. We all know that finding a halfway healthy dining option in an airport is next to impossible. However, amidst the BK Lounges, MCDonald's, and trinket shops with overpriced sundries, I spotted a bit of an oasis. Wolfgang Puck had dropped an airport version of one of his cafes right in front of me.

Thanks, Wulfgang!

Now, this did little to improve my mood, because I still figure if something is in an airport, it's going to be bad. At least this might be on the higher end of bad. The food was overpriced and took itself too seriously to be in an airport, bug it was at least healthy-ish and fresh, and I didn't have to order from a robo-cashier talk box, so I was okay with things.

As I waited in line to order my fancy miniature pizza, I noticed William.

William was a cafe employee, but not behind the counter or preparing the food. William was walking about the tables picking up trash and straightening the chairs. I would assume that in the Wolfgang Puck Airport Cafe team pecking order, William is probably on the bottom.

I ordered my pizza and went to my seat, all the while watching William. He got my attention at first because I people watch at airports. There's not much else to do. But shortly after, I noticed that he was not at all a typical airport cafe employee. In fact, William wasn't typical of employees at most companies.

William was not only picking up trash and straightening chairs, which I assume is what his role expressly calls for him to do, but he was bringing orders to the tables (mine included). In addition, he was offering patrons Parmesan cheese, plastic ware, napkins, drinks refills, and all of the things that one would never, ever expect at an airport cafe. He was actually providing better service than I've had at a number of sit-down restaurants.

Here's the thing, William did it with a smile and a genuine enthusiasm. He embraced the opportunity to affect the people around him.

He took a few seconds to make a joke or a friendly word with each table of people, and in turn, each table had a collective smile as he left.

William was making people smile. At an overpriced cafe. In an airport.

I ate my pizza and drank my beer, all the while watching William work his craft. I was amazed at his passion and enthusiasm with which he went about his business. 

I found myself, for the first time that day, despite all that I take for granted and am not nearly thankful enough for God having given me, in a good mood. William, by simply being friendly and taking pride in his job, had made my day better.

I decided at that moment that I had to do one more thing that day before leaving Chicago. 

I approached William and told him that I appreciated what he was doing, that his positive attitude had made my entire day better, and I thanked him. I shook his hand and told him that I hope God blesses him.

William's reaction is hard to put into words. As he shook my hand, he had a look of gratitude and pride. It was clear that being thanked by a stranger is not something that William is accustomed to.

I say this not to point out that I did a good deed or paid a complement to a stranger. I share this story so that you can be on the lookout for a William as you go through your day. Someone who will remind you that no matter what we're dealing with or going through, or whatever your station in life, you can still make a positive impact on those around you.

Most importantly, when you see a William out there, thank them.

I sincerely hope that I'm not the first traveler in O'Hare to acknowledge William. If you're ever in there and see him at the Wulfgang Puck cafe, please make sure I'm not the last.