Hey blog, Im back. I apologize for not being more attentive but over the last few months to say things have been nuts…well that would be an understatement. Something I want to make clear about my writing would be their purpose. Yes, the motivator and initial reason for writing was obviously triathlon and my experiences in it. However, it is also about life, my life and how I view it. Triathlon has given me an indescribable gift that includes friends, foes, life lessons, ups and downs and so much more, but getting to the start and finish line takes more than just that of training and a final race report. That being said, this post is about the other side, the rest of my life and what I feel not only makes up me as an athlete but as a person.
So where to begin after an opening like that? If you know me, truly know me, then you know my path through life has hardly been a straight line. No way, my path: one awesome road consisting of twists and turns, huge ascents and massive descents, and I am happy to have gone through each and every one of them. One thing I have learned, you never get time back and second chances are literally, once in a blue moon. Call it luck, call it whatever you like, but I have one of those chances right now and I assure you, every second is being taken full advantage of.
Now, to life altering events, outside of the triathlon world, outside of the norm and things I attest to making a person who they truly are. This weekend I was in NYC and I witnessed something that I just cant seem to shake. In the middle of a great weekend, a fantastic sense of carpe diem, acting on life, it was brought to a shuddering halt. The temperature was a very cold 12 degrees and when the wind blew, it felt a lot colder. (Keep in mind, I had a nice hat and new winter coat on and still felt the bitter temps) Between running blocks and blocks, laughing, jumping, trying not to get hit by cars, there was a mission… get to Barnes and Nobles and PEE!
Inside I went, up the stairs and into our respective restrooms. Upon opening the door, I walked around the corner and there he was. About 6’3” with long matted white hair and an overgrown beard, baggy clothes that were obviously layered, brown shoes that looked much too big and a sack that hung across his chest off to the left; he was homeless. When I entered it was only him and I and he turned to look at me, I stopped. His face hidden by most of the hair but buried within the wrinkles it showed pain. Just below his chest he had his hands in the air. They were red and very swollen with little cuts. He had severe frostbite and was using the hot water in the restroom to try and de-thaw them. My stomach dropped. I turned and entered the stall. Standing there I was trying to think of what I could or should do. He needs help but do I offer? Would he want it? What about disease, I had no gloves? Maybe I should give him my coat and hat. Damnit, what can I do? As I stood there my mind raced. This wasn’t my town, I don’t know protocol, but for crying out loud, this man is a human being I thought. Then it happened.
The door swung open and a fat guy walked in. He looked at the homeless man and shouldered him on his way to the stall. 10 seconds later it happened again by yet another person. I just stood there, in shock and still not knowing what to do. The homeless man was now using paper towels on his hands and one other person came in, brushed against him and ignored him as well. Disbelief, shock and confusion overwhelmed me. I walked out, not saying a word or doing anything. My friend was waiting for me outside as I had obviously taken longer than I should have. It was easy to tell something was wrong immediately and. We started to walk back down the stairs and I talked about what I witnessed, all the while trying to hold back tears as I was so shaken. Neither of us knew what to do.
Im still sickened by what I saw but even more so by my lack of action. As I continue to think about it, my thoughts return to why I ever thought about going to med school and what my purpose was in life. I wanted to help people…I thought. Here I was having an incredible weekend and there was a man, a human being, who needed help and I did nothing. Maybe ignoring him was what he wanted. Maybe. But I should’ve at least asked.
I still cannot get his image out of my mind or the guilt feeling out of my heart. I am better than that. Better than those assholes who ignored him and ran into him…or am I?
He will never read this and I will probably never see him again. (maybe in a blue moon) But I need to tell him;
Im sorry.
