April 16, 2010
"Mr. Bentley, are
you a runner?"
I'm standing in the St. Augustine Catholic High School chapel, in front of the student body and a kid asks me this. It's my
first day at a new job and I'm nervous about the way I look and the way I
sound. I can see their faces, 120 of them looking at me expectantly.
The school principal introduces me to the students and assembled faculty and asks me
to tell them a little bit about myself. My mind races - where to begin, what to
say? "Don't mind the hat kids, I had cancer, that's why I look
funny." I don't know what to say. The only teenager I'd ever really talked
to was my nephew and he just thought I was a funny dancer.
I don't know how they
knew I ran. Maybe I talked about it during my interview and it made its way to
the track coach, I'm not sure. But here is this skinny kid with an
endearing grin and tousled black hair, standing up in the middle of chapel
asking, "Mr. Bentley, are you a runner?"
I pause for what seems
like an eternity, thoughts racing through my head. What do I say? Images barrel
through my head. My lymphoma, personal struggles, anxiety as I come to grips
with my level of running now, all fighting to be the one excuse allowing me to
bow out and say, 'no'.
"Mr. Bentley, are
you a runner?"
I stand there, positive
they can see the see the emotions ripple across my face. What does that mean -
are you a runner? Is it running everyday? Five miles a week? More, less? Does
it mean you run races? Does it mean owning a pair of running shoes, or shirts?
Yes, some of those. Or none.
I struggle, trying to come up with a simple answer to such a complicated question. Am I a runner? I latch on to
something, something I've come to realize on this journey. Maybe simply put,
running is a way of thinking about ourselves. The values that we hold dear and
the story we tell ourselves to help us find our way in an uncertain world. To
find the people like us.
I look again at this
group of kids, this kid named Nico asking me if I'm a runner and I see them
struggling with the same questions. What defines them? What values will they
find dear and hold close as they navigate this journey to adulthood? I took
those same tentative steps when I was a scared, nervous ninth grader. I asked
those same questions too, seeking out people who were like me and held the same
values. I remember it was then that I became a runner.
"Mr. Bentley, are
you a runner?"
Little did I know that
by answering this question, running would save my life. Again.
"Yes." I
replied. "I'm a runner."
Nico grins, and the kids cheer. Mr. Bentley is a runner.
This is a snippet from Tim's upcoming book about cancer and life, and the tools running gives us to be great at both.
To read the middle part of this journey, follow the link here.
