Feeling the Aging Process in a Mall

Recently I walked into a department store in a mall and I felt ancient. It was not anything physical. At the age of 66 I regularly do ultra marathons and finish ahead of people half my age.  No, it was a “This is your life moment.” It was not about age-related changes in me—but changes in the world around me.

Getting old is a strange experience. It can sneak up on you.  One of the reasons I dove headfirst into running and fitness a few decades ago was my desire to try to stave off the inevitable by being active. I hope and believe that I will be active into my nineties and perhaps even running a race or two.

But there are no strategies to stave off the changes in everyday life that the passage of time brings. When I look back, I realize that our day-to-day existence has changed dramatically over the course of my life.  I also understand that to anyone under the age of 40, my childhood and early adulthood probably seem as ancient as the pilgrims.

It hits me at strange times. It can be an old classic song on the radio, or when I hear about the death of TV star who is a stranger to today’s young people. Once when I forgot my cellphone as I was driving to work. I wasn’t sure I would survive the day without it. Yet it occurred to me I have survived most of my life without one. How is it now that I am completely dependent on it?

More recently it hit me when I was walking in the Rockaway Mall.

As I went into JC Penney and later walked through the mall it hit me that I was old. It was not because of the clothing styles or the music that was playing. It was the lack of people, the shuttered storefronts and the limited merchandise in the stores that were open.  I was walking in a place that was dying. It was a relic of another age. Nothing about the mall shouted “this is the future” or this is a “happening” place.

Malls were where it was all happening when I was growing up. Teens piled in cars and buses to just go to the mall. If you needed to buy something you went to the mall. It had not only stores, but movie theaters, arcades and food courts. Who needed anything more? You ran into people you knew at the mall.  

I remember as a kid the talk about the construction of Willowbrook Mall was big news. All the surrounding communities were excited. It was as if we were no longer hick towns but cosmopolitan just because we had a mall. Our community status somehow rose with this one addition of a mall. Around this time, malls started popping up all across the state of New Jersey.

You see I remember when malls were the future. I was even part of that future, even if it was reluctantly. I was a recent college graduate and the only job that I could acquire was as a management trainee for Kinney Shoes at Willowbrook Mall in Wayne N.J. At the time it was one of the busiest malls in North Jersey. The stores were all stocked to the ceiling with merchandise. Finding a sales associate was easy, the trick was trying to avoid them as they swarmed all around. During the Christmas holiday the parking lot was full and you may have had to drive around for awhile to get a spot – or follow shoppers who were finished shopping and were walking to their cars to get a coveted parking spot.

If you had asked anyone back then about the future of malls and retail, you would probably hear that malls would just grow bigger and more numerous. In 1992 the Mall of America opened in Bloomington Minnesota–the biggest mall in the country.

Now finding a sales associate in a mall store takes a good eye and it is nearly as difficult to find a cashier. Paying for merchandise can be nearly impossible.  Merchandise is also very limited. The shopping experience is frustrating.  But I’ll say this: Parking is easy now.

I was there for the birth and heyday of retail malls. Now as I walked through the mall it felt like I was there for their death. It is like I have gone from visiting the maternity ward to visiting hospice care.  I am sure there are people much smarter than me trying to figure out what to do with these monuments to American consumerism.

The new monuments to American consumerism are the Amazon, Fed Ex, and UPS trucks that now roam neighborhood streets on a regular basis. I buy almost all my running gear online.  I joke that if my wife stops using Amazon I will tell people to unload their Amazon stock.

But here is a strange paradox. I never particularly liked working or shopping in a mall. While I love my online shopping, I am also very nostalgic about the fate of shopping malls. It is as if part of my childhood and young adulthood has been erased. Maybe it is always just sad when any institution comes to an end.

I think that is why I am wistful about the death of the major retailers and the mall. There are things that you just take for granted and think that they will last forever. You are confident about what the future will hold in some areas. Yet there is no K-Mart, Toys ‘R’ Us, Kinney Shoes, or Thom McAn, while Macy’s is just a shell of what it used to be. Sears, once the largest retailer in the U.S., has fewer than 10 stores left.  As Yogi Berra once said, “The future ain’t what it used to be.”

While I am somewhat sentimental about shopping malls, I am less wistful about landline phones. And I know that world would make today’s teens scream. But that is a story for another blog.

Lesson of the Legends – Part 3 -The Power of the Group and Other People

In sports like football and basketball there is something called the home field or home court advantage. Basically, having a home crowd rooting for the home team usually helps them perform even better and can affect the visiting team’s performance negatively. The power of the crowd is so strong that the oddsmakers in Las Vegas usually measure its worth in pro football games at around 3 points. Think about that. Even though someone is not on the field they can impact someone else’s performance.

What is even more surprising is that at an event like A Race For The Ages (ARFTA) the other runners can also impact the performance of each other and crews can not only impact their runner but other runners as well. I know this is true because it affected my performance.

There are several ways I know this. First is that the ultra-running community is an extremely supportive community. As you are running or walking along the course everyone is so positive and always urging each other on. Even other runner’s crews will cheer you on. Every time I ran by Tom’s daughter Sarah (see previous blog) she cheered me on. It’s a little thing but it lifts your spirits. Ultra-running is just as much a mental exercise as a physical one, so being positive helps a lot. There will be times that you want to quit and a little pick-me-up from a fellow runner or crew member helps.

Second, tied in with the need for positivity is the need to have confidence in yourself. Believing you have the ability to accomplish something is a necessity to achieving it. Yet confidence is something that is sometimes fragile when faced with a major challenge. On this race I knew I could finish more than 100 miles, but I was not sure how far after that I could go. Although I had never really done anything like that before, I did know that I was doing pretty well on this race. Yet I had no idea where I would place. A few of the other runners took notice of my pace and hours on the course and they would say to me “You are really crushing it!” or something to that effect. It’s amazing how when others recognize your effort that motivates you to keep going. It helps build up your confidence when others think that you can accomplish something.

Third, when you are with a group of people all trying their best and pushing themselves to their limits, it has a contagious impact. There was a woman name Rosie who was 71 and was just a few laps behind me who just kept going. She was probably hurting a bit and was hunched to one side as she slowly covered the course. She could have quit the race at any time, but she just kept moving.

On the last night of the race I was going into the wee hours and it seemed like there were fewer runners out on the course. But I kept pushing until I could not keep my eyes open. I went to take a short nap but really conked out and slept over five hours, which was much longer than I planned. When I awoke the sun was up and I saw many runners circumventing the course. They had apparently taken their nap earlier than me and for a shorter length. I then realized that if they were pushing that hard, I had no excuse not to push myself to the very last second. Which I did. My goal the previous day was 150 miles, but I ended up doing 160 miles. Basically, that last 10 miles was motivated by the other runners.

It is not often in today’s sometimes divisive world that you can go to a place where you know that you will be supported by all others. Even complete strangers. Where you will see people giving it their all. Where some people are attempting to do something, they have never done before.  All this is accomplished with a sense of joy in the air, even when some are suffering.

There were numerous times in this race that I thought about stopping. Yet it seemed so wrong. There was a sign on the course that said it best: “Your competition is the little voice in your head that wants you to quit.” The race was not about beating the other runners as much as it was about doing your best. Doing your best rarely involves quitting.

Maybe the most important lesson on this race, as in most ultra-marathons, is that our actions not only impact us but those around us. I am sure that many of those runners were unaware that their effort motivated me and made me push harder. This is a lesson beyond ultrarunning. Our positivity and effort can affect others. And if that is true our negativity can also affect others. Which one do you want to spread?

 

 

A Race For The Ages – Lessons Learned -Part 1

When American sporting events feature “legends” it is usually to undertake some ceremonial gesture –like throwing out the first pitch of a baseball game or flipping the coin at a football game.

But at A Race For The Ages the participation of legends is far from ceremonial. It is central to the event.

A Race for the Ages is a different race than I usually run. Held in Manchester, Tennessee, it is open to runners aged 10-110. Runners ages 41 and older are permitted a number of hours equal to their age to accumulate as many miles as possible.  Those 40 years and below compete in the last 40 hours of the race. The winner is the runner with the most miles accumulated by the finish.

So, the oldest runners start the race before all the others and have the course to themselves. Usually at a race I am among the oldest in the field but at the ripe old age of 66 I was actually one of the younger runners! My bib number was 80 which meant that there were 79 runners who were older than me and only 58 or so who were younger. I laughed when one of the other runners called me “kid.” I couldn’t recall the last time that had happened.

So, I had 66 hours to see how far I could run/walk a zig-sagging mile loop.  I was joined by runners with a wealth of experience—and a lot of different stories to share.  But there were common themes in all their stories—determination, the need to push yourself and the importance of being yourself.

In this blog, and in the next two blogs, I have the pleasure of sharing the inspirational stories I watched unfold over the course of those 66 hours.

Lesson of the Legends – Be the Best You can Be

The two oldest runners in the field were a 93-year-old named Don and an 88-year-old named Karsten. They were very good ultra-runners in their heyday but now for ultras they are regulated to races like this which give them plenty of time to cover some ground. The standard cutoff time is 30 hours for most 100-mile races, though it can be higher if the terrain is very difficult. That is not something that 88- or 93-year-olds are typically capable of. Yet it was obvious that both Don and Karsten still wanted to push themselves.

It was about 1 a.m. on Sunday morning, and I was pushing myself to get my 100 miles as early as possible. So for the last few hours I had been out there with the other runners trudging through the course. By this time, I recognized most of the runners but there was one who stood out to me.  It was Karsten who, at 88, was the second oldest runner in the race. I met him at the start of the race, just before the oldest runner—Don—was about to take off. He noticed my Grand Canyon Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim shirt and asked how long it took me to complete that run. I replied that it took me 17 hours he said he did it in six and a half. I suspected that his time was for rim-to-rim but I did not argue. Who argues with a legend?

Now, however, we were running the course, and I saw him a couple of times sitting at a park bench. Pretty much the only place you could sit and rest on the course with the exception of your own camp. I wondered if it is hard to keep going when in the past you would be closer to the lead not just pushing yourself to get what you can. Still, I was so impressed that past 1 a.m. he was still out there pushing himself to his limits. No, his participation was not ceremonial, he was competing.

Don, who was the oldest runner, was the same way. He was the first runner out, sporting a t-shirt that said “By Endurance – We Conquer.” It was a great motto for this race. Yet like Karsten he was out there running in the fierce sun and heat. Slowly but steadily moving. I always cheered him on when I passed him as did most of the other runners. I remember once when I passed him while I was running, he said “It looked like he was standing still” as I went by him.

What really impressed me about Don was that in the last minutes of the race he was still there competing. With about 30 minutes to go he did not stop but decided to do one more mile. It would be close, but he was going to push himself. He was the first runner out 93 hours ago and the last runner on the course.

Both Don and Karsten inspired all the other runners. They were not competing for victory but to be the best that they could be. That’s a lesson we should all take to heart.

Finding my Roger Bannister for Being Old

Roger Banister is famous for breaking the four-minute mile mark. It was a record that runners had chased for decades to no avail. It was thought by many that it was impossible for a human to run a mile that fast. It was also thought that if it was somehow accomplished that the running conditions would have to be perfect. Yet when he broke the record it was a cold wet day. Yet on the day he did it more than a record was broken. He showed the world what was possible. A month and half later John Landry broke the four-minute mile and then thirteen months later three runners in the same race no less broke the four minute mile. Now-a-days even high schoolers run sub four-minute miles.  It was Roger Bannister, however, who showed us all a new possibility. A physical activity went from impossible to possible for all who followed. It is sometimes called the “Bannister Effect”.

Think about his impact of changing the mindset and creating a new possibility for all runners to follow. Think about the impact if something that seemed far flung or even impossible now becomes very possible to you personally. That happened to me with my friend Richard. He gave me a new vision about being older. I never really thought about what it would be like to be in my 60’s. 70’s, 80’s or even my 90’s.

Being old just happens. You don’t really plan for it even though it is inevitable. You work until you retire. Then you do what retired people do. You look around and see what people who are older are doing. That seems to be the only options available to you. They seem to have fun as long as they have a nest egg and good health (Though all seem to have some medical issue.). Active ones play golf, swim, walk, play cards, join a book club or senior citizens organization. I was fearing getting old because I couldn’t picture myself having a more sedentary lifestyle. My father was always working in his yard or the garage doing physical labor until cancer took him in his eighties. My mother is very spry and alert at 96. So maybe genetically sitting around is not for me. Yet the options did not inspire me to look forward to retirement.

I did begin to think about being in my 70’s when I turned fifty. I was in fairly good shape but not great shape. I decided I wanted to hike mountains when I retire and not just look at them or drive up to the top. So, I began training to be 75.

I began running and doing various races from Tough Mudder’s and Spartan to trail races. I knew however I had a limited time to do this, that Father Time (If you want to read about my battles with  Father Time read this blog.)would one day put a stop to my fun. As part of my fitness training, I joined an online group that set a goal of running and/or walking 1,000 miles in a year. Something that is very doable. The site had a few articles and a leaderboard and also a discussion page.

In the discussion page there was not a ton of posts, but I enjoyed it and after a while there were a few of us that were regulars. I enjoyed my online banter with Cynthia, Debby, and Richard. We always stayed positive and encouraged each other to reach our goals. In the years we were doing this Richard always amazed me.  You see Richard was in his 90’s. I remember at the end of February I was doing about 100 miles per month and was feeling pretty impressed with myself, until I looked up and Richard was ahead of me!

Richard not only walked and ran a lot, but he also competed in master track events. Usually placing in the various events whether it be a 100 meter dash, long jump, or 200 meter race. He was still an athlete.

That is why Richard changed me. He showed me that he was an athlete even after the age of 90. That was not something I thought was an option or even possible. Sure, I had seen YouTube clips of 80- and 90-year-olds finishing a race but this was different. Richard and I regularly communicated with each other. Even after the website went defunct, we stayed in contact. As Richard would say “We were unseen friends.” We had a connection, so his feats really hit home and had an impact.

I now decided that I was an athlete but that was not a temporary label but a permanent self-image of myself. I finally knew what I would do when or if I retire. I would still enter races and compete. I would run till I couldn’t anymore. I now knew what was possible not for others but for me. Like those runners pursuing the sub four-minute mile after Roger Bannister They knew that their dream was attainable. That gives you confidence to strive for your goal. Richard did that for me.

So I may retire from work but not from competing. I don’t expect to win many if any events, but I can still compete. Like the runners who followed Roger Bannister they had a different mindset I had new mindset about getting old. From my way of thinking getting old is all about your mindset.

One of the things I pride myself on in my races is that I always like to finish strong. Running the last mile or so with whatever energy I have left. I don’t want to walk or just slowly trod across the finish line. This even though it will not change my place in the standings. There is a high at the finish line when you know that you have given it your all. I know that this sounds trite, but I want to end my life the same way. I don’t want my final years being sedentary and slow moving. I want it to end like the race. Me always pushing my body and mind to do more.

Now Richard was impressed with my tough trail races and ultra-marathons but what I never told him was his impact on me. I recently finished first in my age group in a tough trail marathon. (Actually, it was 28 miles.) That was not because I was particularly fast but because I was the only one in that age group. I hope that maybe, just maybe, in the future one or two people who are younger than me will see a man in his 60’s running in these races and say hey I was going to stop but if this old guy can do so can I – after all it is possible. Sometimes all we need to push ourselves is to know that something is possible. Thank you, Richard.

Aging, Denial, and the Man in the Mirror

I was recently looking at a photograph from a family wedding when I saw this older man with my sister, brothers, and my in-laws. I was trying to figure out who it was. Then it dawned on me. It was me! I was that old guy!  I was a bit taken back. It was like the first time that I realized that I was old. How could that be? I mean I see myself in the mirror every day when I shave, brush my teeth, and comb my hair. That guy does not seem that old. Yes, there is gray hair, but it is a full head of hair. Granted when I come out of the shower, I am not wearing my glasses so maybe my vision is a bit off. That photograph, however, was like I was seeing myself for the first time as others see me.

I believe we all have an image of how we look to the outside world. It is based in part on fact, but also in part it is based on a delusion. I am a perfect example of this. I do not see the older man in his sixties that other people see. I think of myself as a forty-year-old. Not real young but most definitely not an old man. Okay maybe a lot delusional.

Many others see me at work and ask me when I am going to retire? I can understand that because I have been working there a long time. Yet when the man giving me a ride back home while my car was being serviced asked me the same question about retiring, it stung, it really stung. You would have thought that by now I would have gotten the hint. Yet I still have a hard time accepting my age.

This is not just an internal debate. Now my algorithms are even debating how old I am. On my Facebook feed, retirement advisors keep popping up. Recently in the mail I received fliers from strangers who are very interested in my upcoming 65^th birthday. Not because they are hoping to get invited to a birthday party, but I will soon be eligible for Medicare. They really want to help me. I can’t help but think they believe they need to help this old man understand the system because his mind is too feeble.

Yet there are other ads that follow me. Trail races across the country appear continuously saying that they are the race for me. Emails fly in about any 5K race east of the Mississippi (and a few west of the Mississippi as well). Not only that but obviously if I go to all these races, I need the proper running shoes. Ads follow me everywhere that spout that you are an athlete who should be spending his money on races and shoes.

The thing I am pondering is which conflicting algorithm is right? The one telling me to slow down and retire or the one that says let’s go run an ultra-marathon? Which Ray am I? The old one in the photo or the young one in my head who wants to go out in the rain and run nine miles?

Reflecting on this, it came to me, that maybe this is not an either-or proposition. Maybe our society and the algorithms need to adjust to me. Why can’t one be both sixty-four and run ultra marathons? I mean I look at both algorithms and agree. Yes, I do want to retire. Why? So that I can spend all my time running races across the globe.

Coming to grips with the aging process is not always easy. That is because it is slow and creeps up on you. One day you walk all day with ease and with a pep in your step. Then one day you are winded going up one flight of stairs. You look at old photos of yourself and cringe barely recognizing yourself. I remember one day a co-worker came up to me and said they were looking at old photos when I had first started. She said in what she thought was a compliment “You were good looking!” I retorted the optimum word there is “were”.

We all try and stave off the effects of aging and stay looking young. After all, men and women dye their hair to hide the gray. Plastic surgeons make a very good living making us look younger. There are various skin creams out there designed to eliminate wrinkles. It is a thriving industry to try and stop the aging process.

These are all products designed to make our outside appearance seem younger. Yet the aging process is more internal than external. Yet if you work at it, you can keep a youthful outlook on life even with gray hair. With just a little exercise you will not get winded, when going up the stairs. This is why I like running.

I look at my body as a vehicle, a car. While it has aged and shows wear in areas it is still in good shape. The key however is that the driver, which is my mindset, is still young. He still likes to push himself. He is daring but not reckless. In fact, he is wiser than when he was as a twenty-year-old. Yet he is not old and likes to compete and try new things.

Okay I will admit to one guilty pleasure about aging. When I am in a race no matter what the distance and I pass a thirty something year-old. I love it! When I look at the race results and while I am not among the top finishers I am usually near the middle and there are so many people way younger than me who finish with slower times than me. To me that is a victory. I revel in it.

There is one other thing about running that makes me feel younger besides keeping my body in better shape and that immature guilty pleasure, I just mentioned. It is that almost all the people I meet and have fun with are younger than me. While I am almost one of the oldest competitors nothing about the event shouts geriatric.  It is a forward-looking crowd. Yet when I am at a function or social setting with people in their 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s the conversation always seems to come back to medical ailments and people who are sick that we know. Conversations that definitively shout geriatric.

Aging to a great degree is a mindset. Yes, the body does show wear and tear, but you can still have a youthful view of life. Maybe that is just a slight case of denial, but I am okay with that. I just looked in the bathroom mirror again and at the photo of the old man at the wedding. Now I can see that the lighting in the photo was bad and who knows maybe the photo was doctored to make me look older. Okay maybe a lot in denial but I am still okay with that.

 

 

 

Battling my Inner Voice

It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves.

Sir Edmund Hillary

I have run many ultra-marathons and have even run the entire length of my home state of New Jersey from top to bottom, about 196 miles. I am planning on doing this run again. Though this time from the southernmost point to the northern. I have even addressed audiences about my ultra experiences particularly the New Jersey run. In doing so I regale them with the ups and downs of such feats but there is definitely an air of inevitability to the tales. I explain my “why” in these presentations. Which is of believing in challenging oneself. That our greatest personal achievements are accomplished because they were difficult. That I think aging is not slowing down. That we are capable of more than we think.

I do it with an air of confidence. That it is easy. Frankly after several years of this I am not really challenged about my why and my ability to do these running feats at my age by anyone. Except one person. This person will challenge me and say “Bull sh$#@! You are not as tough as you appear. You are getting old and slowing down. You are just in denial.” The confidence that I thought I was oozing evaporates when they confront me. Is it just my male ego (My motto is never underestimate the stupidity of the male ego.) that drives me?  Is it wrong to push myself this way? I also know this person who challenges me knows whether I am being honest or not.

The person who challenges me most about my decisions is – myself. My inner voice that says very often “Don’t do it!” My inner voice has impeccable timing. It waits until I am most vulnerable and weak, then it makes its argument. It waits until the weather turns while I am on an ultra-marathon and going uphill and say “You are getting too old for this.” After I suffered a stress fracture of my right knee it again whispered so that only I could hear. “See it is time to stop this nonsense. You are getting old.” I really hate that he always brings up my age.

This inner voice has good intentions. It wants to protect me from harm. It wants to keep me safe and warm. As I am running in the rain or snow it will whisper in my ear “I hear golf is a great game. Most men your age take it up.” It will point out all the possible dangers.

I will admit that sometimes I will give in to this voice or at least compromise. For example, on one tough trail race I walked the last six miles or so because of a bad pain in my ankle and rather than risk further injury I walked. On another tough race I told my inner voice don’t worry this is my last time doing this. Which I truly meant at the time. Yet when I finished and received the finishers medal my mood changed instantly and soon, I was scouring the web for another race.

That feeling of accomplishment at the end of grueling run is what keeps me going and is also my “why”. You see I have another voice in my head. (Yes, I know you are wondering how many voices do I have? No time to explain that, but for this blog it is just two.) The other voice is a dreamer. It wonders what I can do if I just try. It says you are capable of more than you think but first you have to get your butt off the couch and move. It says don’t wait for the perfect time to do something. The time to do the things you want is now. If you wait for the perfect time, you probably will really be too old.

This inner voice gets louder with every success. Even small successes. When I finished my first ultra-marathon, a 50-mile run. It was not a pretty sight. I was walking slowly at the end. Yet that finisher medal lifted my spirits. That inner voice started to shout over the careful voice. “You see you did it! You know what? I think if you did it again you would do it better.” That voice was right. I took the lessons I learned from the previous run and improved dramatically the next year. You see success breeds more success and confidence.

That inner voice also shouts when things are tough and my other protective voice is saying “You are getting old.” The daring voice is saying “You have faced these obstacles before and persevered. Just keep moving.”

We all have these two voices in our head. One that dreams and one that is protective. Now I am not saying just to listen to that daring voice that dreams. I like to think that I listen to both voices. I am daring but I am not reckless. That protective voice forces me to plan out the big challenges. I am saying listen to BOTH voices. Many of us play life safe and only listen to the protective voice. Our biggest regrets in life are not the things we did but the things we did not do. We wonder what if?

It is not easy following that daring voice because the partner on your journey as you move forward is “failure”. It is always lurking in the vicinity. You are not only facing the challenges of your decision but the possibility that you might fail. Your protective voice always says if you don’t attempt it you can’t fail. Yet you likely can’t have a great accomplishment without facing the possibility of failure.

It is funny when I began this blog I thought I knew what I wanted to say about my “why” but I found that I may have been wrong.  The biggest challenge and obstacle I face is myself. Getting over my fear of failure.  My “why” is pushing myself not to be complacent and settle for the easy path. This is a never-ending battle that happens every day. Just going out for a training run there is a battle among the two voices in my head. It is also not just about running. It occurs in many of my life’s decisions.

Do you listen to both voices?

 

 

 

Why a Kindness Run?

I was coming to the end of my 196 mile running journey. Almost 65 hours which included about four hours of sleep, constantly moving the rest of the time. What was I feeling? Surprisingly it wasn’t fatigue. No, it was a strange emotion. Tears were streaming from my eyes. The run which I had originally done to test and push my body to its limits was something more than a physical and mental challenge. It was a journey of emotions and spirituality as well. It was almost an entire life’s journey in 65 hours that had changed me. The man who started the journey at the High Point Monument in New Jersey’s Northwestern point was not the same man who ended at the Cape May Lighthouse at New Jersey’s southernmost point.

I had taken away many lessons from that journey. Some that I had already knew but were reinforced. Such as that we are capable of more than we think if we give it our all.  Also, aging does not mean slowing down. That we have to have a gritty mindset and keep moving forward even when times are tough. These are all quite traditional American principles. Yet there was one thing that surprised me. That was the power of kindness.

I always practiced kindness because that was the way I was raised as a child. Yet on this running journey I found that kindness has strength and power. Not something we associate with kindness. Every time a friend or family member drove an hour or more just to cheer us on for five minutes, it inspired me and my co-runner Anthony. When strangers who heard about our run cheered us on and encouraged us to go on it gave us strength. When an almost complete stranger who was following my run came to join us in the wee hours of the night. All because I had shown him a random act of kindness seven months before. I was feeling the power of kindness.

Yet after the run and I returned to my everyday life it was harder to see that power of kindness. That is because the cable news channels, and social media trolls, seem to hog all the attention. Even so the power was still there but so was hatred. Something that thankfully, I did not have on my run.

Practicing kindness would seem to be an easy thing to do, but in our society putting down people and being snarky are cooler. That, however, does not make kindness any less powerful just rarer. I also found on this run that people do want to believe in positive news and kindness. They just do it quietly.

When I decided to try this challenge of running the length of New Jersey a second time, this time from south to north. A bit harder feat because you end up going uphill more than in the other direction. I knew that I had to do it with that kindness lesson in mind.

When most people do an endurance challenge like this their message is the traditional American principles that you can achieve most anything you want if you believe and work hard. Also, they usually have a charity they are raising money for. I am raising money for a charity called Dylan’s Wings of Change. Yet something was gnawing at me about the kindness lesson.  It needed to be explored and promoted as well.

As I was on a morning run it came to me. I knew that I needed to ask more from the people who might be following me on this trek. Yes, I wanted them to cheer me on and donate to Dylan’s Wings. (An organization by the way, that spreads kindness.) I need to not only talk and preach about kindness but spread it. I decided that I was going ask people to perform one small act of kindness as well. This is not a hard task, I thought it would be nice if they documented it as well. That way in my tiny part of the world and my small circle of friends and family we have made it a little better place. That is why I call this journey The New Jersey Kindness Run.

If you are reading this blog and thinking of donating to my cause I hope that you perform that small act of kindness and let me know. It does not have to be big. For example, after a recent snowstorm after I was done shoveling my driveway and walkway. I went over and shoveled around my neighbor’s car. That way he could get out easier. Not a big deal, but it did make me feel better. I know that this sounds strange but before I take the first step on this running journey these small acts will inspire me. Kindness always does.

I will admit I am a little nervous about this request. Not because it is difficult for someone to do it. In fact, in my circle of friends and family there are some wonderfully kind people who are already quietly performing acts of kindness on a regular basis. It is just that they do it quietly and probably will want to keep it that way.

Yet if we spread the word a bit more, we can influence those people who keep to themselves too much. We can also change our society’s narrative a bit, that the world is place filled with hatred and negativity.  Some of us must at least try and make people feel more positive about humanity. The way I look at it, one little extra act of kindness is something this world needs a lot more of. After all it is hard to have too much kindness.

Maybe I am crazy and naïve but the only way I will find out is to ask. Please think about it. What is the worse that can happen? Someone rejects your offer. Very unlikely. No, more likely it is that you will make someone feel better. I know that it will make me feel better when I run that you did this.

Shaking Hands with Father Time

I have been in many competitions over the course of my life and I know what it feels like to win and what it feels like to lose.  Unfortunately, I have definitely been on the losing side more often than the winning side.  In every competition there comes a point when you know that you or your team cannot win. It is at that time when you are being tested the most. It is easy to coast and go through the motions when you know that you are overmatched or cannot win.  I am in that situation now.  I am in a battle I know that I cannot win.  I am in a battle with Father Time. As we all know Father Time is undefeated as even Tom Brady found out.

What started out as a mild and fun skirmish with Father Time is now growing more intense with haymakers being thrown and the battle now more personal than ever before. When I first started to battle Father Time I was turning fifty and had realized that while I was in rather good shape if I continued on my somewhat sedentary life I would age rather fast. I originally wanted to just be fit enough to walk and hike miles in the woods. Nothing special much like a man wanting to play golf on a regular basis when he retires. Father Times likes it that way. You are conceding the battle early because he has convinced you, that in your mind, you are old.

Somewhere along the line I stopped thinking I was getting old. That I still had something left in my tank. I started doing Tough Mudders, Spartans and tough trail races. Each year while I was aging I was also pushing myself to do even harder and tougher events. I will let you know that Father Time does not like that and there is a reason he is undefeated.  He fights dirty. He will pull a muscle here, sprain and ankle there, and take away a little agility. All reminders that you are getting old. Just relax and all those aches and pains will go away he is telling you.

All those little injuries hit me, but they did not deter me. They actually inspired me, to not only continue but to be smarter about my fitness. Soon in my sixties I was able attain my greatest athletic achievements of my life, running a 100 miles twice not to mention almost a two hundred mile trek across the length of New Jersey. I was feeling great about my health and fitness and definitely not feeling old.

Father Time was not amused and decided to remind me who the champion was by landing a couple of haymakers. First, he hit me below the belt with a punch to my knee and I suffered a stress fracture on my right knee sidelining me for a few months from any running. Then people I know around my age started suffering serious health and physical injuries. As I said Father Time does not fight fair attacking not only you but the ones around you. He is intent on breaking your spirit and having you concede that you are old.

I have to admit, I was reeling with my injury. The more I did nothing, the harder it was to regain the fitness intensity I had. Yet when I had first suffered my injury I had confidently and with a little cockiness told my doctor I would do another ultra-marathon and send him the picture so that others would know it was possible. I also pushed for physical therapy so I could focus on my comeback.

Despite my bravado it is not easy because my confidence has been sapped. However, with every run it starts to grow. I not only need to build up my physical strength but more importantly my mental strength. That will really piss off Father Time. That is what he wants to do. He wants to break your spirit.

Obviously, Father Time is the toughest competitor I have ever faced. I have a strange dream and goal pertaining to Father Time. At the end of a tough race or any sporting contest the competitors shake hands at the end acknowledging each other’s efforts.

When my time comes on Earth, and I hopefully ascend to the pearly gates. The first face I want to see is not any deceased family or friends. I know that sounds wrong but there will be eternity for that. I want to be greeted by Father Time.

I want to shake hands with Father Time. I am hoping that he says “Pinney you really were one of the hardest people I had to fight.” I would then reply “Thank you Father Time our battle made me a better man.”  Then I would kick him in the knee with all my strength and say “Two can play at that game!” Look I said I lost a lot I never said I liked it.