A Man From The Past

Instead of running on Pebble Beach this morning, I switched my running route. I hit a sidewalk at 6:45 a.m from Southampton Ave., turned to Mass. Ave. passed Boston Medical Center, turned to Columbus Ave. cut through W. Newton Street until I got to Prudential Center. I slowed down when I got here because running with a little pouch hanging on my waist ( I had a camera in a pouch) was no fun at all. That little pouch kept banging my lower waist all the way. If I had no intention of taking photos of Boston Marathon preparation, I wouldn't be caught running wuth anything extra except necessary gears.

The whole part of Boylston Street (from one end of front entrance of Public Library of Copley to the other end) is blocked by the benches and overhead bridge. The finish line is right in front of the library.

Besides a couple of trucks and a trailer delivering a dozen of handy houses to the site, the place was still quiet. I passed a few marathoners in an official Adidas blue/white sweatshirt with Boston Marathon 2005 on the back of the shirts. By tomorrow afternoon the city will be swarmed with the runners from all over the world.

I snapped a few photos, did some stretches and continued my running along Boylston Street, dashed across Boston Garden to Boston Common until I stopped at the bench at Park Street. I wanted to stop to take some pictures of swans at Boston Garden, but I didn't stop. I didn't want to break my rhythm.

"Hey there sexy legs." I heard a voice from a bench behind me.

"Hey there sexy legs with orange bandanna." I couldn't ignore the voice. I was the only one had an orange bandanna at that moment.

"Excuse me?" I straightened up my spine and turned around to look at the voice.

"Yeah.......I know it's you, young lady. You're not wearing running short today, but I know you still have the best legs in town." He put down a half empty Poland Spring bottle water next to him. He crossed his legs, leaned back and smiled, showing a gap of his upper front teeth. His face dotted with pearl of sweats. And.....he had Pearl Izumi running sneakers. Is he a runner?

My mind raced back and forth trying to put his face into a right slot of names and places. Nothing came up.

'I'm sorry sir, have we met before?"

"Aahhhhh. I knew it I ain't wrong, your hair is short now, but you're just as polite as before," he bent forward and rested his lower arms on his thighs, clasped his hands together. His dreadlocks slid down from behind his ears and swung gently.

"Do you remember many years ago, you bought a cup of coffee and a donut to a homeless man?"

"Oh............it's you," this time I was more surprised than before, "my goodness, you still remember me after all these years?"

"How could I forget? I was a mess. A homeless man, drunk, foul smell and shit begging for a spare change from you."

"Yes, I remember you. I was holding my breath, pulling the money from my sock."

I ended my running one Sunday morning at the same spot where we were talking right now. A homeless man approached me asking for a spare change. His strong body odor (for being away from H2O far too long) and alcohol fermented his being, my first reaction was to move away. But, my instinct told me not to. I stayed and talked to him.

As I pulled a five dollar bill from my sock, folded and damp, he said all he needed was a cup of coffee. I looked at him, I knew it would take him forever to cross the street to get a cup of coffee. I asked him how did he like his coffee, black with sugar or with cream or milk?

"Medium black, two sugars."

When I handed him a cup of coffee and donut, he was more than happy to accept it.

He thanked me between sipping his coffee and shoving the donut into his mouth.

"Thank you sexy legs, you don't mind I name you sexy legs?" He was more earnest than being an inappropriate.

"You're half drunk, I don't have a sexy legs, they call these an elephant legs."

"I'm drunk, but I ain't blind and I ain't dead yet."

I said goodbye and headed to the train station. That was seven years ago.

He was no longer the same man I met seven years ago. He has been sober and cleaned for the past four years. He works with a food bank and does a volunteer work as an outreach worker for the homeless. And he goes to school part time at a community college. All I could say was, "You are amazing." And he is amazing.

"Do you run too?" I blurted out the question since I saw his running shoes.

"Yes, yes. I started it when I was at half-way house. You inspired me."

"I did?" I looked for a spot to sit down. Something for my legs to hold on to. He removed the bottle water and patted an empty spot next to him.

"You never thought your simple act seven years ago would have an impact on an alcoholic and homeless man like me, didn't you?"

I shook my head.

He told me his determination to reunite with his long lost son, and of course his newfound interest - running. I showed him the right way to breath when he runs and not to distance his elbows from his sides when he hits the sidewalks. The sun was high when we said goodbye.

Left side of the library

Comments

[anasalwa]

Kri, Inul fan,
Thank you for stopping by and read my blog.

[kri]

A very inspiring story, Sexy Legs.

[anasalwa]

Lilian: He must be ready to change the course of his life. I happened to be there, that's what it was. And, I'm grateful to learn something from him.

[lilian]

I am lost for words. I was waiting for some sort of explanation - e.g. like a mail forward kinda thing. But this happens to you and I feel great! That kindness and goodness are all around us! Thanks for the lovely sharing.

[anasalwa]

beth: thank you.