Sacrificing for our LEGS

I posted yesterday about how much everything was a BLURRRRR....from the moment I crossed the finish line.  I thought I might pass out...just needed water so bad. Prior to that - I feel like every detail and moment of that race is en-grained in my mind like a unique etching with specific details and memories I can recollect (today anyway) at a moment's notice.  I remembered a very important detail about that 'post race experience' on my train ride in to work this morning.  As I hobbled (yes...still hobbling these aching quads along nearly 3 days later) onto the train platform, I was right behind a man on crutches.  After about 10 steps behind him, I finally realized he only had one leg.  Not a prosthetic....just one leg and crutches, with a very heavy backpack.  WOW.... He's stronger than I am.  I can't imagine doing that daily without a wheel chair or fitted prosthetic and HAVING to get around in this fashion - relying on other people of the general population to help and assist with holding doors and getting around.  Well - almost. 


As we stepped on the train - there are two large areas of handicapped seats which hold 4 people each....so, 8 possible seats for this man with one leg to sit in.  He gets on - and NO ONE STANDS UP.  They all just look around at each other as if they're thinking "No empty seats....good luck....I'm not getting up".  I don't know what got me, but I then just said

"Someone Get Up for Him...Seriously". 

Quickly 8 sets of beady eyes glared and one man in his mid-40s jumped up.  The handicapped man sat down and with my head down...I quickly moved to the back of the car.  (you know....like when you're on a school bus as a kid and waiting for one of the big mean Corson kids to come beat you up for speaking out of line - ha ha).  But, none of that happened, and I found myself sitting down 20' from them and looking back at these people and wondering - why did a stranger have to speak up for him as a disabled person?  I'm sure I've been in that spot before and didn't do the right thing - we all have - but do we really need common strangers to call us out when a man who is OBVIOUSLY disabled needs a place to sit and rest his one good leg?  Wow.

The next thought that immediately came rushing into my mind was crossing the marathon finish line.  I remember smiling for the picture (they did announce my name over the loud speaker too!) then looking down and hitting 'stop' on my watch...and then trying to stay balanced.  The next thing I remember is looking up to see a disabled woman in a wheel chair - probably in her late 50s/early 60s - largely overweight - helping ME.  She said "Tabitha (remember, my name was on my shirt), come over here".  I walk over, brace myself on her wheelchair and SHE puts the marathon medal around my neck and says congratulations".   Ok - she is disabled.  It's 86 degrees outside, 30 mph winds gusting, high humidity - and SHE is the one who is out there taking care of runners who have been running on their legs for over 26 miles and seriously - HELPING ME!.  Talk about coming full circle. 

I ran 26 miles to be then assisted by a handicapped woman with no use of her legs - who sacrificed her day - to volunteer for people showing their courage for running on their legs for up to 6 hours....when she has no use of hers.  Then today, I see a man with no leg not be given a seat on the train by 8 able-bodied people who were sitting IN the handicapped section. 

I wish I had a warm 'happy ending' to this post - but the only conclusion I can draw is MAYBE what happened Sunday at the race made me more aware of cognisant of the disabled population and realizing how much we as able-bodied people take for granted.  This morning left a foul taste in my mouth for the self-centered people that most of us have become.

I am slowly getting the use back of my legs from Sunday's run.  These people don't have that choice.  She put a medal around my neck and let me lean on her chair - and today we nearly shut out a man from sitting in his own designated seat?  Seriously - what is wrong with us?