Finished in 4:50:11! While I work on my next blog post, enjoy the following diversion :)
Video courtesy of YouTube user ClaudeineTV, "New York Road Runners: Day After"
Monday, November 7, 2011
Saturday, November 5, 2011
My Journey to the Finish Line: The Last Mile
"All endeavor calls for the ability to tramp the last mile, shape the last plan, endure the last hour's toil. The fight to the finish spirit is the one...characteristic we possess if we are to face the future as finishers."
- Henry David Thoreau
- Henry David Thoreau
Bellwood Avenue. Almost always the start of my jogs and runs, and very often the final mile. I have run on it in nearly every condition and season I can fathom: Sun, rain, snow, wind, and darkness of the night. It was on this road that I wrapped up my marathon training three days ago. I am physically and mentally ready for the Big Day tomorrow.
Months turned into weeks, weeks into days, and now I tick off the final hours before I toe the start line at Verazzano-Narrows bridge in Staten Island. The marathon will take me through a delightful, and sometimes painful, on-the-ground sightseeing tour of NYC like never before. It will go through all five boroughs, cross 5 bridges, and end at my favorite haunt in Manhattan - Central Park.
In my mind, I am a Kenyan and Ethiopian, but I know I cannot keep up with those flighty runners from the East African highlands. My only goal is to finish, whether it takes 4 hours (my predicted time), 4 and a half hours (in order to get my name in the NY Times), or 6 hours (to get my finisher's medal). Today is the Day of Arafah (Day of Repentance) in Mecca, where nearly 2 million pilgrims are beseeching God for forgiveness for a lifetime of sins. Tomorrow they will celebrate the end of the Hajj, but my Day of Reckoning will just be starting.
I intend to enjoy the company of my 45,000+ fellow runners, buoyed by cheers from the nearly 2 million spectators lining the streets of New York, entertained by the 130 performance groups, and nourished by the volunteers at the fluid and medic stations. With these welcome distractions, I will probably ignore my iPod. But at some point, I will need motivation from within. "Run, Jawaad, Run!" will be followed by "Labayk, Allahumma, Labayk (Here I am, O Lord)", leading to "Push, push, push!" in the final miles.
I will be a Starter on Verazzano, the King of Queensboro (Bridge), a Reveler on First Avenue, and a Finisher in Central Park.
Months turned into weeks, weeks into days, and now I tick off the final hours before I toe the start line at Verazzano-Narrows bridge in Staten Island. The marathon will take me through a delightful, and sometimes painful, on-the-ground sightseeing tour of NYC like never before. It will go through all five boroughs, cross 5 bridges, and end at my favorite haunt in Manhattan - Central Park.
In my mind, I am a Kenyan and Ethiopian, but I know I cannot keep up with those flighty runners from the East African highlands. My only goal is to finish, whether it takes 4 hours (my predicted time), 4 and a half hours (in order to get my name in the NY Times), or 6 hours (to get my finisher's medal). Today is the Day of Arafah (Day of Repentance) in Mecca, where nearly 2 million pilgrims are beseeching God for forgiveness for a lifetime of sins. Tomorrow they will celebrate the end of the Hajj, but my Day of Reckoning will just be starting.
I intend to enjoy the company of my 45,000+ fellow runners, buoyed by cheers from the nearly 2 million spectators lining the streets of New York, entertained by the 130 performance groups, and nourished by the volunteers at the fluid and medic stations. With these welcome distractions, I will probably ignore my iPod. But at some point, I will need motivation from within. "Run, Jawaad, Run!" will be followed by "Labayk, Allahumma, Labayk (Here I am, O Lord)", leading to "Push, push, push!" in the final miles.
I will be a Starter on Verazzano, the King of Queensboro (Bridge), a Reveler on First Avenue, and a Finisher in Central Park.
"The woods are lovely, dark and deep
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep."
-Robert Frost, Stopping by Woods on Snowy Evening
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep."
-Robert Frost, Stopping by Woods on Snowy Evening
Random Fun Facts:
Longest distance (in training): 20.56 miles
Total training miles: 285.6 miles
Total training runs: 45
Total training time: 43 hours
Calories burned: 29600 (211 large chocolate chip cookies)
Longest distance (in training): 20.56 miles
Total training miles: 285.6 miles
Total training runs: 45
Total training time: 43 hours
Calories burned: 29600 (211 large chocolate chip cookies)
Saturday, August 13, 2011
My Journey to the Finish Line: Running by Moonlight
"At night, when the sky is full of stars and the sea is still, you get the wonderful sensation that you are floating in space."
- Natalie Wood
Two nights ago, I ran 8 miles around the neighborhoods near my house. I was afraid that I would trip over something and hurt myself, as there are several stretches along my route that do not have street lights or are overshadowed by trees. But I was greatly relieved to step out my front door and see brilliant almost full moon directly overhead. And I was off, my feet dancing in a straight line between alternating patches of jet black asphalt and the faint orangeish hues cast by the overhead sodium streetlights.
Running at night is truly a surreal experience. For one thing, it is dark. Darkness conceals my reliable frames of reference I use to judge my pace. I feel I am running faster when I am actually running a bit slower. Silly double and triple shadows! However, the beauty of running in the dark is that I cannot see - see what is up ahead. If I cannot see what challenges lie ahead, I am not afraid of them. Like the hills, my nemesis. My least favorite parts of any route are the inclines. I like going downhill, feet cycling without abandon, but what goes down must come up, right? But the night hides the hills and I don't see them - I feel them. During the day, I have to plan to adjust my speed and energy when running up hills. At night, my feet dictate the rhythm and adapt to the grade.
Running at night is like being in a cocoon - perhaps being in a plane at cruise altitude, or even being at the top of a mountain with powerful thunderstorms miles and miles away. It is quiet and you can see the flashes of lightning, but the laggard roll of thunder is muted. You can see action beyond, but for now you are just floating by, oblivious to the fray. At least, that's what's going through my head at mile number 3, as I zoom by the houses on Milburn Street, with their occupants already tucked in and departed on their nightly sojourns.
I take a swig of my energy drink around mile number 4, glancing at my watch to check my time, and turning to look behind me, perceiving the red flashes of my taillight bouncing off the sidewalk. I look ahead to focus on the darkest stretch of my run up Hawkins Avenue, shielding my eyes from the glare of the oncoming headlights. The lights eventually drop away, giving way to the dazzling moonlight reflecting off the red and yellow strips of my safety vest.
Mile number 5. I turn off Hawkins Avenue onto Ruland Drive, at the southwest corner of the Strathmore Village subdivision. Running up the winding uphill stretch, I nearly slip on a hidden pile of sand. I recover quickly, only for the muted sanctity of the night to be shattered by several dogs barking from the safety of their owners' yards. I guess it was too early for the dogs to be sleeping. A car alarm goes off as I pass another driveway, and I startle a group of friends sitting on the curb as I round the crest of the hill. But slowly I settle back into the rhythm, streetlights approaching with regularity.
Mile number 6. During the day, the flow of my runs are governed by what I see and hear, and the beat of my heart. At night, I start to appreciate the keenness of my other senses - what my feet feel along the road and how my fingers respond to the breeze. But my strengthened sense of smell is what truly amazes me. I can smell the gentle fragrance of the blooming perennials I cannot see, the welcoming musty smell of sprinkled water falling on freshly cut grass and dry earth, the wafting odor of dying charcoal embers from a recent barbecue. The night in general is more pleasing to the olfactory bulb than the day. Surprisingly overwhelmed by the cornucopia of smells, I look towards the sky to clear my nose and observe thousands of stars in the sky (millions if not for the brightness of the moon). The sight truly gives a sensation of floating in space. Suddenly, my vision is obscured by a covering of leaves and I quickly look down and turn to avoid running into a tree.
Mile number 7. Another steep hill and now I am definitely getting tired. A car is idling on a driveway, and a couple of people are standing next to it, deep in conversation, but looking at me and scratching their heads. I run by a couple of sprinklers, seeking to cool down my aching legs. Back onto Strathmore Village Drive and up one last hill, a sharp pain emanates from my left ankle. My body, specifically my Achilles tendon, is awake now and warning me that it is almost time to go home.
Mile number 8. I slow down a bit - cannot afford to have my ankles quit and leave me sidelined for a while. I exit the Strathmore Village neighborhood about 6 minutes later onto the sidewalks of Wireless Road. I pick up speed, goaded by the headlights of the cars behind me, but am still going at a comfortable pace, crossing when it is safe, I re-enter my neighborhood and sprint for the last 20 seconds, thinking of the lime- and raspberry- flavored popsicle sticks waiting for me in my freezer. My feet stop. I'm finally home.
Running at night is truly a surreal experience. For one thing, it is dark. Darkness conceals my reliable frames of reference I use to judge my pace. I feel I am running faster when I am actually running a bit slower. Silly double and triple shadows! However, the beauty of running in the dark is that I cannot see - see what is up ahead. If I cannot see what challenges lie ahead, I am not afraid of them. Like the hills, my nemesis. My least favorite parts of any route are the inclines. I like going downhill, feet cycling without abandon, but what goes down must come up, right? But the night hides the hills and I don't see them - I feel them. During the day, I have to plan to adjust my speed and energy when running up hills. At night, my feet dictate the rhythm and adapt to the grade.
Running at night is like being in a cocoon - perhaps being in a plane at cruise altitude, or even being at the top of a mountain with powerful thunderstorms miles and miles away. It is quiet and you can see the flashes of lightning, but the laggard roll of thunder is muted. You can see action beyond, but for now you are just floating by, oblivious to the fray. At least, that's what's going through my head at mile number 3, as I zoom by the houses on Milburn Street, with their occupants already tucked in and departed on their nightly sojourns.
I take a swig of my energy drink around mile number 4, glancing at my watch to check my time, and turning to look behind me, perceiving the red flashes of my taillight bouncing off the sidewalk. I look ahead to focus on the darkest stretch of my run up Hawkins Avenue, shielding my eyes from the glare of the oncoming headlights. The lights eventually drop away, giving way to the dazzling moonlight reflecting off the red and yellow strips of my safety vest.
Mile number 5. I turn off Hawkins Avenue onto Ruland Drive, at the southwest corner of the Strathmore Village subdivision. Running up the winding uphill stretch, I nearly slip on a hidden pile of sand. I recover quickly, only for the muted sanctity of the night to be shattered by several dogs barking from the safety of their owners' yards. I guess it was too early for the dogs to be sleeping. A car alarm goes off as I pass another driveway, and I startle a group of friends sitting on the curb as I round the crest of the hill. But slowly I settle back into the rhythm, streetlights approaching with regularity.
Mile number 6. During the day, the flow of my runs are governed by what I see and hear, and the beat of my heart. At night, I start to appreciate the keenness of my other senses - what my feet feel along the road and how my fingers respond to the breeze. But my strengthened sense of smell is what truly amazes me. I can smell the gentle fragrance of the blooming perennials I cannot see, the welcoming musty smell of sprinkled water falling on freshly cut grass and dry earth, the wafting odor of dying charcoal embers from a recent barbecue. The night in general is more pleasing to the olfactory bulb than the day. Surprisingly overwhelmed by the cornucopia of smells, I look towards the sky to clear my nose and observe thousands of stars in the sky (millions if not for the brightness of the moon). The sight truly gives a sensation of floating in space. Suddenly, my vision is obscured by a covering of leaves and I quickly look down and turn to avoid running into a tree.
Mile number 7. Another steep hill and now I am definitely getting tired. A car is idling on a driveway, and a couple of people are standing next to it, deep in conversation, but looking at me and scratching their heads. I run by a couple of sprinklers, seeking to cool down my aching legs. Back onto Strathmore Village Drive and up one last hill, a sharp pain emanates from my left ankle. My body, specifically my Achilles tendon, is awake now and warning me that it is almost time to go home.
Mile number 8. I slow down a bit - cannot afford to have my ankles quit and leave me sidelined for a while. I exit the Strathmore Village neighborhood about 6 minutes later onto the sidewalks of Wireless Road. I pick up speed, goaded by the headlights of the cars behind me, but am still going at a comfortable pace, crossing when it is safe, I re-enter my neighborhood and sprint for the last 20 seconds, thinking of the lime- and raspberry- flavored popsicle sticks waiting for me in my freezer. My feet stop. I'm finally home.
"If the stars should appear but one night every thousand years, how man would marvel and stare."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
Random Running Statistics:
Total distance run - 98 miles
Total time run - 856 minutes (14 hours 16 minutes)
Number of runs - 21
Maximum heart rate - 188 bpm
Minimum heart rate - 144 bpm
Total distance run - 98 miles
Total time run - 856 minutes (14 hours 16 minutes)
Number of runs - 21
Maximum heart rate - 188 bpm
Minimum heart rate - 144 bpm
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
My Journey to the Finish Line: The Spirituality of Running
"Your aim is before you. Behind your back is the hour which is driving you on. Keep (yourself) light and overtake (the forward ones). Your last ones are being awaited by the front ones."
- Imam Ali (A.S.), Sermon 21, Nahjul Balagha (Peak of Eloquence)
My grandfather was right when he said, "Why do I need to go to the mosque to find God? I see God in the trees on the golf course." At the time, my eight year-old brain processed these utterances as mere excuses to avoid the throngs of people at the mosque in the heart of Dar-es-Salaam, Tanzania. Only now do I truly realize the profound truth in my grandfather's words, especially when I go on my runs. I, like most runners, am plugged into my MP3 player while flying or trudging along, but the melodious wisps floating through my earbuds are just background noise for my private conversations within myself and with God.
Running in itself is a very laborious and boring task, and accompanying music only soothes a little or may provide a little motivational spark. Some runners repeat personal mantras over and over again, while others rack their minds for a little bit of creative ingenuity to attack a problem they might be having. Yet others just clear their mind. For me, the sometimes physical monotony leads to a sort of spiritual cleansing. I ponder why I am here, and why in my right mind am I seeking to accomplish a goal my body was not built for? I get a little startled at my little epiphany and think I may be a little crazy, but just then I notice the flora and fauna surrounding me. I regularly encounter blue jays, cardinals, pigeons, rabbits, squirrels, and chipmunks on my morning runs. Just when the heat and humidity conspire to slow me down, I get a boost by seeing all the spectacular flowers in full bloom. And in my mind I ponder, yet again, why am I here? I may be running the marathon to perhaps prove to myself that I can push my body to the limit and accomplish something that I may not have thought possible before. Maybe it is something to cross off my bucket list. But perhaps, it is the journey to get to the starting line, and the trials and tribulations that I will encounter during the race itself, more important than the end reward. It is a journey that reveals that I am not doing this of my own volition and by myself, but there is something greater guiding me along, gently reminding me of His presence with all these wonderful signs, nature's beauty which I would not have paid attention to if I had not forsaken those few precious minutes of sleep to go running. God is truly a great running partner.
It is with these thoughts bouncing around in my head that I approach the spiritual angle of the marathon with excitement and anxiousness. I fondly remember my many snippets of exciting moments when I ran the Buffalo Half Marathon in May 2009, but one of my most poignant memories was my 8th or 9th mile through South Buffalo, just when exhaustion was starting to creep in. Outside a small church was a pair of balding friars in their simple brown habits. These men of God looked like they could use a few laps around their house of worship. What really boosted my flagging energy was the bright smiles on their faces and the words of encouragement they imparted to each and every runner. I high-fived them and continued on my merry way, revitalized. With these recollections still fresh in my mind, I cannot wait to experience Miles 4 and 5 on Fourth Avenue in Brooklyn. As Liz Robbins describes it in A Race Like No Other, it is a smorgasbord of various houses of worship, ranging from churches to synagogues to mosques. As Father Francisco Rodriguez eloquently puts it, "Runners are not doing this to win, but to finish. They are serving a higher purpose on this day."
Running in itself is a very laborious and boring task, and accompanying music only soothes a little or may provide a little motivational spark. Some runners repeat personal mantras over and over again, while others rack their minds for a little bit of creative ingenuity to attack a problem they might be having. Yet others just clear their mind. For me, the sometimes physical monotony leads to a sort of spiritual cleansing. I ponder why I am here, and why in my right mind am I seeking to accomplish a goal my body was not built for? I get a little startled at my little epiphany and think I may be a little crazy, but just then I notice the flora and fauna surrounding me. I regularly encounter blue jays, cardinals, pigeons, rabbits, squirrels, and chipmunks on my morning runs. Just when the heat and humidity conspire to slow me down, I get a boost by seeing all the spectacular flowers in full bloom. And in my mind I ponder, yet again, why am I here? I may be running the marathon to perhaps prove to myself that I can push my body to the limit and accomplish something that I may not have thought possible before. Maybe it is something to cross off my bucket list. But perhaps, it is the journey to get to the starting line, and the trials and tribulations that I will encounter during the race itself, more important than the end reward. It is a journey that reveals that I am not doing this of my own volition and by myself, but there is something greater guiding me along, gently reminding me of His presence with all these wonderful signs, nature's beauty which I would not have paid attention to if I had not forsaken those few precious minutes of sleep to go running. God is truly a great running partner.
It is with these thoughts bouncing around in my head that I approach the spiritual angle of the marathon with excitement and anxiousness. I fondly remember my many snippets of exciting moments when I ran the Buffalo Half Marathon in May 2009, but one of my most poignant memories was my 8th or 9th mile through South Buffalo, just when exhaustion was starting to creep in. Outside a small church was a pair of balding friars in their simple brown habits. These men of God looked like they could use a few laps around their house of worship. What really boosted my flagging energy was the bright smiles on their faces and the words of encouragement they imparted to each and every runner. I high-fived them and continued on my merry way, revitalized. With these recollections still fresh in my mind, I cannot wait to experience Miles 4 and 5 on Fourth Avenue in Brooklyn. As Liz Robbins describes it in A Race Like No Other, it is a smorgasbord of various houses of worship, ranging from churches to synagogues to mosques. As Father Francisco Rodriguez eloquently puts it, "Runners are not doing this to win, but to finish. They are serving a higher purpose on this day."
"We felt we were going out to bless the people running. But what started happening was we were blessed."
- Pastor Frank Haye, as quoted in Liz Robbins' A Race Like No Other
Random Statistics
Number of runs: 18
Total miles run: 83
Time run: 725 minutes (12 hours 5 minutes)
Longest run: 10.13 miles
Total miles run: 83
Time run: 725 minutes (12 hours 5 minutes)
Longest run: 10.13 miles
Sunday, July 24, 2011
My Journey to the Finish Line
"The marathon demands determination and courage. The event should not be taken lightly; it asks us to reach down and test our mettle; rise above our limits, to become more disciplined, and to make substantial sacrifices. The rewards are unique: a sense of achievement beyond the scope of words."
-Toby Tanser, The Essential Guide to Running the New York City Marathon
It is almost the beginning of the 6th week of my training, with 104 days remaining before the Big Day. Most of the participants in this year's edition of the NYC Marathon have just completed the first week of their 16-week program. The journey to the starting line at the foot of the Verrazano-Narrows in Staten Island, New York has been months in the making, starting January 11th of this year. However, my 18-week training plan officially began the week of June 19th, and I completed just over 11 miles in 3 runs.
To prepare for the challenges past and upcoming, I had to move up the start of my training program. I completed the 3rd run of my first week while traveling to a conference in the Appalachians of the southwest corner of Pennsylvania. Lately, I have been battling the extreme heat and humidity by running earlier, skipping over scheduled short runs, or postponing them altogether. My total mileage thus far, 60 miles over 14 runs, is far below what I would have accomplished if I could stick to the plan, but guess what? Life intervened. However, my biggest training challenge is still yet to come. In a week's time, I and a billion of my brothers and sisters in faith will be welcoming the holy month of Ramadhan, where we are not allowed to eat nor drink from before sunrise to after sunset. I do not intend to slack off in my training. Rather, I will curtail my run distances to a maximum of 7-8 miles (60-70 minutes of continuous running) and do them at night, about 2 hours after I open my fast in order to avoid cramping. Yes, this will mark the return of 10:30-midnight runs, stored in my memories since I last participated in them with Michael and Peter around the NTU campus in Singapore 6 years ago.
These challenges can and will be a little trying, but a little toughness will strengthen my resolve, boost my endurance, and make me yearn for perseverance during what could be the hardest and most unique 26.2 miles of my life, shared with 45,000 fellow runners and 2 million spectators. The physical fine-tuning is well underway, but it will all be a waste if my mind doesn't arrive with my body at the starting line on Sunday, November 6th, 2011. I expanded my summer reading list beyond scientific articles just for this purpose, with tomes such as Toby Tanser's The Essential Guide to Running the New York City Marathon and Liz Robbin's A Race Like No Other populating my bookshelf, side table, and dresser. I've only just started reading other runners' accounts of their experiences before and during past NYC Marathons, and I cannot help but be psyched. I just have to keep this runner's high for a 104 more days and then let my endorphins take over for the final hours of this journey. Over the next 15 weeks, I will be logging and detailing my highs and lows in this incredible journey, and hopefully entertaining you. With that, I leave you with a particularly poignant quote from Liz Robbin's A Race Like No Other:
To prepare for the challenges past and upcoming, I had to move up the start of my training program. I completed the 3rd run of my first week while traveling to a conference in the Appalachians of the southwest corner of Pennsylvania. Lately, I have been battling the extreme heat and humidity by running earlier, skipping over scheduled short runs, or postponing them altogether. My total mileage thus far, 60 miles over 14 runs, is far below what I would have accomplished if I could stick to the plan, but guess what? Life intervened. However, my biggest training challenge is still yet to come. In a week's time, I and a billion of my brothers and sisters in faith will be welcoming the holy month of Ramadhan, where we are not allowed to eat nor drink from before sunrise to after sunset. I do not intend to slack off in my training. Rather, I will curtail my run distances to a maximum of 7-8 miles (60-70 minutes of continuous running) and do them at night, about 2 hours after I open my fast in order to avoid cramping. Yes, this will mark the return of 10:30-midnight runs, stored in my memories since I last participated in them with Michael and Peter around the NTU campus in Singapore 6 years ago.
These challenges can and will be a little trying, but a little toughness will strengthen my resolve, boost my endurance, and make me yearn for perseverance during what could be the hardest and most unique 26.2 miles of my life, shared with 45,000 fellow runners and 2 million spectators. The physical fine-tuning is well underway, but it will all be a waste if my mind doesn't arrive with my body at the starting line on Sunday, November 6th, 2011. I expanded my summer reading list beyond scientific articles just for this purpose, with tomes such as Toby Tanser's The Essential Guide to Running the New York City Marathon and Liz Robbin's A Race Like No Other populating my bookshelf, side table, and dresser. I've only just started reading other runners' accounts of their experiences before and during past NYC Marathons, and I cannot help but be psyched. I just have to keep this runner's high for a 104 more days and then let my endorphins take over for the final hours of this journey. Over the next 15 weeks, I will be logging and detailing my highs and lows in this incredible journey, and hopefully entertaining you. With that, I leave you with a particularly poignant quote from Liz Robbin's A Race Like No Other:
"Marathoners push themselves to the edge of insanity and exhaustion, because when they look back on those 26.2 miles, the view is profoundly satisfying. They see where they have been and what they have become."
Number of runs: 14
Total distance: 59.63 miles
Total time: 525.15 minutes (8 hours 45 minutes)
Fastest average pace: 7 m 55 sec per mile (3.99 mile run)
Fastest average speed: 7.56 mph
Random Statistics
Number of runs: 14
Total distance: 59.63 miles
Total time: 525.15 minutes (8 hours 45 minutes)
Fastest average pace: 7 m 55 sec per mile (3.99 mile run)
Fastest average speed: 7.56 mph
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Walk Like an Egyptian
Ana el Masry. "I am Egyptian."
For the past few months, I struggled to find the inspiration to post something new to my blog. I finally found it. People who know me know that I tend to be the most apolitical guy around and tend to take a logical approach to addressing and understanding world events. I have strong opinions about certain things, but I usually keep them contained unless I'm solicited for my two cents. After watching the events unfolding in Egypt over the last 3 weeks, I stand quiet no longer.
The protests in Egypt, popularly known as the 25th January Revolution or the Revolution of the Youth, strike at the very core of my humanity. They displayed human's yearning to be free - free of oppression, free of corruption, free of the circumstances that cause us to trudge along in the well-worn mold that we call our lives. It is very difficult to be impartial after observing these events.
I spent a few minutes nearly every day watching the live coverage on Al-Jazeera and BBC. The courage these men, women, and children displayed was truly amazing. They were steadfast despite being sprayed with water cannons and bullets, dodging rocks and Molotov cocktails, defending themselves with only their bodies and metal barricades. That they did not strike back with violence despite repeated provocations makes me respect them all the more. Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King Jr. would be proud.
We live in very troubled times. Economical and political circumstances are dire. Our cultures, religions, and way of lives are under attack - from within and outside. What the Egyptians did and will continue to do can only give us hope that we can change, starting with ourselves and those around us. They are a fresh beacon that show we can and need to be better human beings, to stand firm in what we believe in, but also push for our basic rights.
Even for a relatively stoic person like me, I couldn't help but be moved by the videos below:
For the past few months, I struggled to find the inspiration to post something new to my blog. I finally found it. People who know me know that I tend to be the most apolitical guy around and tend to take a logical approach to addressing and understanding world events. I have strong opinions about certain things, but I usually keep them contained unless I'm solicited for my two cents. After watching the events unfolding in Egypt over the last 3 weeks, I stand quiet no longer.
The protests in Egypt, popularly known as the 25th January Revolution or the Revolution of the Youth, strike at the very core of my humanity. They displayed human's yearning to be free - free of oppression, free of corruption, free of the circumstances that cause us to trudge along in the well-worn mold that we call our lives. It is very difficult to be impartial after observing these events.
I spent a few minutes nearly every day watching the live coverage on Al-Jazeera and BBC. The courage these men, women, and children displayed was truly amazing. They were steadfast despite being sprayed with water cannons and bullets, dodging rocks and Molotov cocktails, defending themselves with only their bodies and metal barricades. That they did not strike back with violence despite repeated provocations makes me respect them all the more. Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King Jr. would be proud.
We live in very troubled times. Economical and political circumstances are dire. Our cultures, religions, and way of lives are under attack - from within and outside. What the Egyptians did and will continue to do can only give us hope that we can change, starting with ourselves and those around us. They are a fresh beacon that show we can and need to be better human beings, to stand firm in what we believe in, but also push for our basic rights.
Even for a relatively stoic person like me, I couldn't help but be moved by the videos below:
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
