My People of the Park

In my thirty-three years of running at Golden Gate Park's Polo Fields I've encountered a wide variety of citizens, both two and four legged with whom I've had the privilege to share the same rarified air unique to San Francisco as we creatures, great and small, clamor about in recreation, rehabilitation, exaltation, or simply to survive. Through the majority of this period, my typical arrival time at the park would be 5 AM which often meant that I would conduct any given workout partly or entirely in the dark (the eyes really do adjust to this condition) accompanied by an assortment of skunks, possums, coyotes, an occasional abandoned dog, and a delightful family of foxes who faithfully waited (or so it seemed) for me in the exact same spot until the clapping of my hands singled my imminent arrival so they might make a hasty retreat to safety, away from my daily intrusion into their otherwise peaceful morning.

I have also shared this space with a wide range of fellow runners with whom I developed friendships some of which have spanned three decades. There is Kai who originally immigrated from Tibet for study in the US and who's smiling greeting is a welcomed awakening call to the miracle of the unfolding day. There is Liam who runs daily with a slow and slightly palsied stride, persistent and determined in pursuit of a healthy and disciplined lifestyle. Here is Adam, a strapping and somewhat mentally challenged man of my certain age with whom I've shared this same path for all these years, always exchanging 'you're still looking good' affirmations as we proceed through time. Simon also can be seen on any given day, the CEO of one San Francisco's largest Chinese import businesses who has always taken the time to inquire about my most recent race or perhaps the state of my most recent injury. Donald regularly shows up to lightly jog or walk the grounds despite chronic bronchitis and advancing years. Frank is the retired SF fire department captain who shares my passion for hard workouts and love of the Giants and who rarely misses an opportunity to express his dismay over the fact that Barry Bonds is yet to be admitted to baseball's Hall of Fame. Around the bend, Steve might come shuffling along in varying states discomfort. A long-time SF physician who suffers from a chronic vascular disorder that restricts the movement of his legs, Steve perseveres and dispenses free medical advice, solicited or otherwise. Emily and John are not far behind on their daily stroll through the park on the way to Ocean Beach and who greets meet as if it were our first meeting.Kiyoko follows with her dog, slowly walking and often pausing to admire a flower or perhaps the ever-fragrant presence of our beloved eucalyptus trees that watch over us with silent authority.

Add to this motley crew, Jeff who is the unsung hero of the entire group. Unlike the neatly attired and carefully sculptured fitness practitioners who elsewhere adorn the gym or roadway with their studied, self-conscious, and perfected countenance, Jeff appears on the scene in the same well-worn sweat suit laboring around the perimeter of the grounds as he diligently and courageously forces a morbidly obese body to take that next step toward what must seem like the unreachable goal of full fitness. He will never be seen posing in front of a gym mirror or strategically place himself on a street corner to be admired by the passing throng but he shows up regularly in a valiant attempt to change the course of his physical existence. In full sight of all the beautiful bodies that often prance and preen all around him, Jeff, brave and unbeautiful, continues to inspire with plodding and undaunted elegance.