Where You're Supposed To Be

Well, my ankles managed to make it through the New York City Half Marathon today (helped by 2 8-hour Tylenol). It was not a pretty race for me. It was humid and warm (I know, shocking weather for NYC), and my overall body was not in shape for this race (another shocker) since I have done insufficient training since my ankle debacle. I did finish, albeit with a sad time, and received my cool medal. But, that is not the story for today. Once again in a half-marathon, I have managed to use my back-of-the-pack position to help another runner.

Today, it happened near the end. At Mile 7 or something, the volunteers passed out sponges. As usual, I kept mine so I could re-sponge at every water station and subsequently squeeze the water on my salty skin. Fast forward to Mile 12 Water Station. I had been trying to catch up with Tall Grey Shirt Man. He was still in my sights, and I stopped at this water station, drinking one cup of water and shoving a sponge in each of two other cups. When I pulled away and looked ahead, I saw Tall Grey Shirt Man laying flat on the road. I quickly caught up with the group of NYC's Finest around him, and somebody yelling for the medics. TGS Man was coherent, and the policemen were getting him to sit up, at which point I placed my sponge-cups in front of him to help him hydrate. I left the scene and proceeded to grit my way to the finish.

All this goes to say that maybe sometimes you're not where you want to be, but you're where you're supposed to be - if you use where you are to help someone else.