Sunday, May 13, 1990

A Record Broken, A Record Scratched, A Marriage Broken, an Itch To Be Scratched...and a Comeback Reborn...

After skipping out on the 1987 NYC Marathon, and going dark for 3 years, it was about time to reinvent myself.


That's the cover of the New York Running News which I received as part of my membership to the NYRR's club.  it shows Juma breaking Alberto Salazar's 1981 course record and Ingrid Kristiansen's narrow miss of Allison Roe's record (by 1 second!) also from that 81' roster.

Amanda was now born, and it was now time to get myself back into the world of running again.  Chapter 1 would be my 1979 Freshman year in High School and the track team I was a member of.  Chapter 2 would be one of those glorious moments in time when I would forever change my life.  Most of it would be for the bad, but the little of it that was good, was grand.  Running in 3 marathons from 1984 thru 1986, and doing several other races, I thought I was here to stay.  

Then came Lorraine.  Then came the Bronx.  Then came Amanda.  Then came Kemwel.  In short, life took over.   Chewed up every last cent of my paycheck, along with every last free minute I had too.  Looking at this magazine over the winter months, and seeing how my name wasn't in the 89 Marathon, or the 88 or 87 for that matter, meant that it was too long.  It meant that I needed to return to something good.  Something healthy and wholesome.   I was approaching the quarter-century mark in my life, and needed to get back to fundamentals.  

So I made up my mind, and began my training in earnest on April 30th. 

Perhaps however, there was a darker side as to why I may have taken up running again however.  Working in Kemwel for now 3 years, I had become a pretty important figure there.  Entrusted with me enough so, that I became a supervisor for the reservations department after a year or so, and this year even began to work on telephone systems here in the office.  

As a supervisor, I had about 30 people or so that would report to me at any one given time.  One of these people were none other than a younger girl (about 20 in age I think) named Fernanda Rodrigues.  Yes, I was married, and unhappily so.  I will leave it to your imagination as to what would unfold later on in the year with Ms. Rodrigues, but the bottom line was that I ran to her house on May 13th and back.  For one, it was only my 10th run.  Secondly, it was to her house.  And lastly, I did this on Mother's Day.  Nothing happened between Fernanda and I...on that day.  But still, the signs of a failed relationship were becoming more and more evident.  Where the running was perhaps initially a way to keep me from going crazy with Lorraine, it would turn out to also be an aphrodesiac to the young single women.  Like Fernanda. 

She lived on North Fulton street and the smell of the flowers were as sweet as she was back then.  Of course, nothing good from this would ever matriculate.  It was like running into a dead end.  She wanted more, but I was too guilt-ridden to anything more