The runner wave

When running first began as a recreational craze in America it looked like the book below.


That's the cover for a book called Jogging. It was written by William Bowerman in 1967, and it was one of the first takes on running for your health. If you can't read it, the cover quotes The New York Times: "Jogging is an in sport." Thanks for that Times. Thanks.

Newsweek, apparently having just learned what a pun is, is also quoted on the cover: "Many doctors recommend jogging, literally tell patients to 'RUN FOR YOUR LIVES'." Good one Newsweek. Good one.

Some think that recreational running only appeared within the last few years, but remember the olympics are a thing. A really old thing.

Nonetheless, a culture of recreational running started to develop in the mid-sixties, when people started to tap into that endorphin resource that comes with a good jog. (mmm endorphins...) Companies like Nike developed special running shoes and the coveted swoosh, and now we get to wear kick ass tights like these. The rest is history.

Today, everybody does it. Everybody has at least been on a jog (many to realize that it really does suck most of the time). I can't tell you how pumped I am about this. I'm pumped about the high percentage of my Facebook friends who have somewhere in their profile pictures a shot of them crossing a finish line, or holding up a medal or chugging a post-race IPA. Hell yeah! I'm pumped about cities that once found themselves the fattest and are now among the fittest. Average people are pushing themselves to compete in things like ironman triathlons, ultra marathons in the middle of deserts, and CrossFit (haha, just kidding).

Running culture is a really cool thing.

I like to talk to my older running friends, who've been at it for a while. Whose miles could have got them to the moon by now (… you know if running to the moon was an actual option…) "What was it like?" I ask, "What did you wear? How was an East Coast winter without $100 running tights and thermal Under Armor?"

I'm thankful to have had people in my life who've been in the jogging game since practically its inception, mostly because they were able to teach me one sacred thing: the runner wave.

What is it?

When you're on a run and you see someone else who's also on a run … you wave.

It's awesome.

It says, "Hey, we're both running, and I'm acknowledging this."

But it also says so much more.

It says, "Hey, I'm not a murderer."

It says, "Hey, I don't take myself too seriously."

It says, "Hey, I may be running 30 miles and you may only be running two, but I think it's awesome you're out here."

"Hey, we both have icicles on our mustaches and snowflakes on our eyelashes and we're in this together."

Most importantly, it says, "You've got this."

No matter what you look like, or how much of a hard time you're having, no matter how far you're going, or how far you've gone, it says, "You've. Freaking. Got this."

So why don't as many people know about the runner wave any more? My theory is this: The population growth of running culture happened so widespread and so quickly that education on proper waving protocols was not adequately delivered to new members of the running tribe.

I'm trying to change that.

I'm determined to spread awareness of the runner wave. Because it's a really awesome thing. My goal is for an entire wave of people (see what I did there?) to know about it, and practice it regularly on a run.

And it's important to note that there are people out on the trail/pavement who are on their run to get away from the world. Trust me, I get that. The last thing these people want is to smile and wave at a stranger. They'd rather just face forward and get in the zone, and put on their Bitchy Resting Face and be left alone. They're still worth waving at.

Because motivation matters. If you're a runner, you get that. There is a battle going on in your head, telling you to slow down, telling you to walk, telling you that you're wasting your time, telling you that there is a Hot Pocket in the freezer at home. It's our duty to not be a holes. It's our duty to wave each other on.

Smile at strangers, and wave at other runners. (Hell, wave at walkers too.) Let the others know that you feel their pain, that you meet them where they are. Let them know that you get it.

Alas, those of you who decide to take this wave and roll with it, know that not everybody knows about the wave yet, and not everybody is going to wave back, but whatever you do, don't stop waving. If they ignore your awesome gesture of motivation, that's on them. Not you. So rock on.

The burden of being observant and kind

There is incredible burden that comes with being simultaneously observant and kind.

For starters, you're always noticing great ways to help others.
For another, you notice all the time how very often, you're the only one.

I'd argue that this combination can be exhausting. Ones who share such a burden think, "I'm always the only one noticing the old lady with the groceries and helping her cross the street," "How come I'm the only one who thinks to send the thank you note?" "Why am I the only one who understands how freaking loud that ridiculous Dyson air blower is in this bathroom and some people who might have sensitive ears like I don't know maybe this infant in the room might be bothered if I use it to dry my hands for an exceptionally long period of time?"

First of all, take a deep breath.  If this is you, you aren't the only one. I swear! There are tons of people like you! And there is hope!

I've deduced that there are four types of people in these possibility-of-helping-another-if-only-someone-was-paying-attention situations:

1. Kind, but not observant.
2. Kind and observant.
3. Unkind, but observant.
4. Unkind and unobservant. 

Situations:

Type 1: A pregnant lady gets onto a crowded subway. This person, seated, does not observe the pregnant lady's situation and therefore doesn't think to give this lady his or her seat. (Perhaps someone taps her on the shoulder and points out the pregnant lady. Then this kind person will give up his or her seat for the pregnant lady.) I believe there are lot of people who just don't pay attention, no matter how big their hearts are.

Type 2: A pregnant lady gets onto a crowded subway. This person, seated, notices the struggle and invites the pregnant lady to take his or her seat.

Type 3: A pregnant lady gets onto a crowded subway. This person, seated, notices, but does not want to give up the seat to anyone, as getting a seat is hard. Perhaps person type three will justify not giving up his or her seat because they had to stand the last time, or perhaps they let an old lady sit there once before. It's someone else's turn to give it up. Being unkind also doesn't mean you're conniving, it just means you don't want to go out of your way to do nice things for strangers.

Type 4: A pregnant lady gets onto a crowded subway. This person doesn't notice because they're too busy pickpocketing the old blind man in front of her.

I'd also like to point out the bystander effect. Perhaps we see someone in need of help and assume someone is coming for them. For example, a car blinking on the side of the highway. We assume, "they've got a tow coming" or "someone else will help." I'd argue that the widespread use of cell phones has helped millions of Americans escape the perils of a flat tire or a dead battery, but it has also created an alternative scapegoat. I don't think it's right to assume "someone is coming," however, I do see its justification.

It's fair to say that these four people "types" are fluid. For example, you may be an observant person, but if you're always looking at your phone or stop practicing your observation skills, you become less observant.

There is the possibility a person started out as kind and observant, and over time, became a little hardened by noticing general disregard all of the time. This is the burden I'm talking about. It is exhausting to constantly notice how shitty people treat each other. It can lead to some serious cynicism.

On the other hand, you may be very kind, and decide you want to help people more often, but you rarely know how. Being alert and on the lookout for situations where you can lend a hand helps. Keeping the thought on your mind gives you a greater awareness of those around you.

Being a thoughtful and observant person has its burden.

Yesterday as I was walking up to Starbucks, I noticed there were two entrances: One was a double door — the kind where you walk through a small room to get to the actual entrance — the other went straight into the Starbucks. I noticed the doors and I thought to myself, "hmm, it's furiously cold out. I should use the double door because then people won't get as bad of a chill."

I posted up in Starbucks and spent the next hour being blown in the face by one hundred people using the single door. Some even threw open the door and it didn't shut behind them.  I am one of four people who used the double door during the entire hour I was there. Even the Starbucks workers didn't think to put a sign up that says please use other door because it's cold.

It's not that people are bad, or trying to make everyone in the Starbucks cold, it's that they just aren't making this observation and applying it to possibilities for the future. Kind people walked through the single Starbucks door, obviously. Unless you're a supervillian, I really doubt any conniving ass holes walked through the door thinking "I'm going to make everybody freeze!" Unlike me — the freak of nature —  people just didn't think about it at all.

Nonetheless, If you're one of these people — the thoughtful, observant and kind — it is imperative that you not give up hope.  Surround yourself with the kind of people who take pleasure in the amazing people around them. Surround yourself with the kind of people who would give their seat to the pregnant lady on the subway. 

In the end, I would rather be the kind of person who thinks about doing nice things and does it, than someone who thinks about it and doesn't?

I'd rather pull up close in traffic so the person behind me isn't stuck in an intersection, even though nobody will ever know that's why I'm pulling up.

I'd rather see my neighbors garbage bin rolling down the hill and put it back in its place, even though they will never know it wasn't properly put back by the garbage collectors.

I'd rather notice the little boy with the armful of books who's about to walk into the library behind me and push the wheelchair button . (I also have an empathy theory that refers to how a kid in high school pushed my books out of my hands and pushed me on the floor  (I know wtf?!) but this blog is getting long.)

I believe that cynicism is a horrible and contagious disease of the heart. I don't think it does any good for anyone.

Subsequently, I believe doing nice things for people is good for your heart. It makes you feel good, even if nobody ever sees. Because you see.


I am not good at distracting myself on a train, so I will likely remain observant until my brain fails me from observing. I don't see avoiding observation skills to be a choice. If I'm going to be observant for the long haul, then I'm stuck deciding between two options: Am I going to be unkind or am I going to be kind? Am I going to open my heart to the places it needs to spread or am I going to avoid eye contact and cynically justify the shear numbers of how little helping one person could make on the world?

The answer is obvious.