Unexpected Help

by Russell Tibbits

It’s triathlon season again and I just started training for my second of the season. While the first race was the shortest triathlon I’ve completed, the next one, in July, is the longest, so I’ve ramped up my training. My last workout was a few days ago, Sunday and I typically don’t remember workouts, but this one stands out. My goal was to complete a long, intense swim workout followed immediately by a standard run to downtown and back. Sunday proved difficult however, because the temperature in the late afternoon hovered around 95 degrees. As I finished the swim, I felt better than anticipated. And with my running background, this run should be no problem. I started my jaunt through the neighborhood to the main road that leads to downtown. Upon hitting the main road, I began to pick up speed. I felt really good; my legs still had power. Tired but managing, I approached the halfway point, when I suddenly I realized why my legs and my lungs still had more to give. I had been running slightly downhill the entire time. The final half was all uphill.

I looped around and began my ascent to the top of the hill. As I eyed the top far in the distance, the lactic acid started to creep into my legs and lungs, and I began to notice how hot it was. I would run for a few minutes, but seemed to be no closer to my destination. Toward the top of the hill, about a half mile from my car, I was gassed. I thought to myself, there’s no shame in walking and jogging back after this run. As I was about to give up, I passed a homeless man, weathered by the blistering sun, sitting on the curb. He looked up at me from underneath his dingy white hat and all he said was, “You can do it.” I don’t know if he was trying to be funny or actually motivate me, but I easily made it back to my car, feeling like I could run another loop.

Here is someone that probably aches constantly, can’t find a place to escape the heat of the bright sun, thirsts for a cool drink all hours of the day and he’s helping me. It was such a humbling experience. How often do I complain about the little things in life? How frequently do I miss out on chances to support or inspire someone? If I can accomplish something I didn’t think was possible from a single line of encouragement, what could he accomplish with my support?