Years ago, when my son was still really little, I remember a conversation I had with my sister once over the phone. We were catching up about what was going on with each of our kids, the kinds of things you normally talk about with a sibling.
I’ve forgotten almost everything we said to each other that day, but one thing she told me seared into my memory, something I still think about often:
“You know, you really should get down on your knees every day and thank God you’re a man.”
She was laughing when she said it — which means I must have said something kinda dense, that revealed just how little I knew about the challenges of having and raising kids. (I wish I remembered! Though I imagine I’d laugh at myself now if I could.)
There’s another, deeper level to what she was saying that I see now also. Not only did I enjoy a freedom from the physical challenges of being a woman — I get to enjoy us having kids, but I didn’t have to “have” them. I didn’t go through nine months of pregnancy or give birth, just for starters.
No, it was that I’d also been completely oblivious to a whole constellation of little privileges I’d enjoyed my whole life, ones I’d never even noticed.
Sure, I’m aware of my gender and ethnicity; all I have to do to see those is look in the mirror. But I move around in the world, and always have, looking like I do: white, male, and generally in good health. I won the ovarian lottery, which means I’m rarely asked to think about what life is like for those who didn’t.
What brought all this to mind for me today is this touching, thoughtful essay by
on what the past year has been like after experiencing a serious knee injury that meant he couldn’t run at all for many months.For Bromka, this has been extremely challenging (to say the least!) as running has been so central to his life: born and raised in Portland, Oregon, he’s a 2:19 marathoner and a former member of the Bowerman Track Club Elite running team, as well as running coach today.
But “when a piece of cartilage broke free from the end of my femur,” he writes in his essay, “that wasn’t possible for many months.” Only very recently has he been able to tiptoe back into the sport, re-learning how to run so he won’t injure himself again.
Over the past year, my father and my father-in-law have experienced some pretty significant health challenges too. They’re not uncommon for men their age — my dad is in his mid-80s, my father-in-law just turned 77 — but they’re another reminder for me of how lucky we are when we’re healthy.
Remember the 1989 movie Always, with Holly Hunter and Richard Dreyfus? When she tries in vain to persuade Dreyfus, who plays a daredevil aerial firefighter, not to make one last flight before taking his new trainer job? She climbs atop his plane and into the cockpit, trying to get through to him: “These things are fragile!”
I’m thankful today that I’m whole, in good health, and can get out there as often as I like. I’m thankful that you’re here too — especially because, as we all see in the newsletter world today, you have more choices than ever. You could read anything you want.
But you’re here, and I appreciate that so, so much. You’ve made writing this newsletter the most enjoyable thing in my entire writing career, really the best thing I’ve ever done — and I thank you so much for that.
You’ve made this possible, every one of you. And I hope you have a wonderful few days off, and get some great running in.
As always, keep in touch and let me know how your running/life is going — we’ll see each other again after the holiday!
Your friend,
— Terrell
One last thing
I can’t let you go without sharing an amazing story I think you’ll love, which I discovered thanks to
. It’s the story of Paul Lundy, who worked an office job for more than three decades in the Seattle biotech industry, but reached a point when he just couldn’t do it anymore.That’s when he discovered 92-year-old Bob Montgomery, who ran a tiny business repairing typewriters. And the rest is, well, you’ll have to read the rest of the story here.




Thank you Terrell! Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours. Keep moving. :) (and writing)
Happy Thanksgiving Terrell and thank you for sharing with us your beautiful pieces with such humbled, and reflective thoughts. I think it's not natural for men to realize these things you do... and I will say having a sister or daughter helps a lot :D