small act, big statement

Many years ago I was madly in love with Henry (not his real name).

He was ambitious, exceptionally bright, funny and exciting.  Our two-year on-and-off again relationship was filled with extraordinarily good times as well as extraordinarily bad ones.

We are still in touch.  He is now a happily married family man, and wildly successful.

Henry would take short cuts where he could — nothing illegal, just ethically questionable. 

Tomorrow is the NYC Marathon, and I can’t help but think of Henry.  When we were dating, he had a framed picture of himself sitting on his bureau.  It’s one of those pictures taken by a professional Marathon Photographer that a runner can buy at the end of the race.  In it, Henry is crossing the finish line of the Boston Marathon, with a clock displaying a very impressive time.  

But here’s the little backstory.

Henry’s brother was an exceptional runner.  He was the one running the race; Henry had come to cheer him on.  Around the 25-mile mark, Henry’s brother cramped up, so Henry put on his brother’s number and finished the race for him.

Funny how seemingly small acts can speak volumes.  Since we are all an accumulation of our actions — big and small — you never know which are the ones others may choose to define us by.