To tell you the truth, I hate this song. Moves Like Jagger kind of makes me want to gouge my eardrums so I don't have to hear it. Hyperbole? Well, duh. But still. It is the one song that makes me override the 'kids choose the station' rule in my car. It is the song that makes me wish Maroon 5 had never gotten together. It is the pop equivalent of 'The Song That Never Ends'. So when that song made me burst out crying the other day, no one was more disgusted than me. This song? Really?!
But there is a good reason: my friend, Dan. Dan was a coworker--a good friend at work--who figured out early on that that song drove me crazy. So he did everything he could to drive me nuts with it: he sang it when I walked by, he dropped it in to conversation, he wrote that he has moves like Jagger on his whiteboard. Maybe it should have infuriated me! But in good-natured fun, it was Dan's way of welcoming me in to the new unit. It was his way of telling me that he liked me, that I was a person he wanted in his unit. As I got more and more comfortable, our conversations branched out from work to family (he had several nieces and nephews) to trains to sports, to politics and philosophy. Dan was the coworker who had bottles of water, advil, and snacks at his desk; he kept the conversation going during unit meetings; he belonged to us. Of course he had his flaws, as we all do, but he was effervescent and passionate and kind. Dan died very suddenly at the end of May. I miss him more than I thought I would, and since the initial shock wore off and that lining of sadness settled around our desks at work, I have been searching for a way to honor Dan's memory. His desk is directly across from mine and each day is a vaguely slightly less abrasive reminder that we have lost a good one.
It has come to me in the last few days that, although he never would have done it himself, Dan both understood and respected my need and drive to run marathons and ultra-marathons. As in most conversations with him, there was always some gentle teasing and back-and-forth, but he always seemed to get it. Dan was an example of the ability to understand a person's passion without necessarily sharing that passion. Dan never would have done it himself; nonetheless I believe that we must run for those who no longer have the chance to do so. So in Dan's honor, I am going to mark my miles and days to the Autumn Leaves 50k with him in mind. Here's to my friend Dan, a guy who didn't know the meaning of the phrase 'giving up', a guy who helped endless young men play football fairly and honestly, a guy who made kids in foster care forget they were there, and a guy who always went the extra mile to look out for our parents. I guess it's my turn to go the extra mile! I know I can do it on foot; I only hope that I can do it in my work as well.
Day 1: 1.5 miles (slow but steady!)
Day 2: 1.5 miles
