Every so often, I stop and reflect about why I train for long painful hours and spend so much time away from my family. Time that is indeed precious in light of the fact that I also have a full time job. Usually I reflect at least once a week, when I am doing long speed intervals or staring at that black line in the pool. The seed that sprouted into my all out passion for triathlons was sowed on that horrible day in September 2001.
I think about that day- everyday. That day is etched forever in my mind and I can recall it with painful detail. I remember driving down the FDR drive that morning on my way to testify before a federal grand jury in a Brooklyn Federal Court. It was an absolutly beautiful day, a warm breeze blew, not a cloud in the sky and that sky- so blue it hurt your eyes to look at. Approaching the Brooklyn Bridge, I noticed a smoking hole in the north facing side of the northern tower of the World Trade Center. My first thought was that a small plane accidently flew into the Tower. I didn’t really think that much of it at the time and continued on my way. I arrived at Cadman Plaza and as I exited my car I felt the ground shake and soon people were screaming that another plane had hit the South tower. I ran down Montague Street to the promenade and stared in horror at the two burning towers. As a civil servant, I felt compelled to get over there and help in the evacuation. Ran back to my car and was able to get over the Brooklyn Bridge just before it closed. Drove almost to the World Trade Center, parking just north of Church street.
I ran to the area of 7 World Trade Center and asked others from my agency for the command post. However, it was utter chaos. People running everywhere, paper everywhere, shoes everywhere, small plane parts littered and that smell. To me it smelled of death. Jet fuel, rubber, smoke…overwhelming.
I went into 7 World Trade Center and underneath the Trade Center into the shopping mall area to assist in evacuating people. There was a substantial amount of people exiting the towers via the mall area. I have to say it was fairly orderly, the people were soaking wet but happy to be getting out. Up and down the escalator steps I went for a while. Someone asked me to go to the north tower and that they may need help.
I can’t explain the next sight, but time stood still at that moment when I observed someone jump from the north tower. I still have nightmares. It must have been hell in that building for someone to take that leap of faith. These poor souls got up in the morning, had a cup of coffee, read their paper, went to a normal day of work and then they found themselves making a decision weather to burn to death or jump out the window into the hands of God …heartbreaking. I watched helpless. Overwhelming.
I continued on my way to the north tower and ran into someone who had injured her leg. I helped her back to a triage area across church street. I started back when a few police officers asked me to help them get people out of the courtyard area, who appeared to be picking up debris. About four of us were next to the south tower when one in the group yelled “debris fall, run.” I looked up and it appeared that the windows were falling out of the upper floors of the south tower. I turned and ran like a bat running from the doors of hell. It seemed like forever, I crossed onto Cortland Street and considered hitting the subway but continued on. I was running along side a cop. I remember we were next to the Century 21 building a I felt a strange pull and I just knew something was wrong. I ducked into a doorway about half way up the block, then everything went pitch black. I fell to the ground. All I remember for the next few minutes was that I could not breath and that somehow my glasses were in my hand and broken. For some dumb reason I was upset about breaking my glasses. Then quiet and dark. I could not breath. Coughing and spitting soot I tried to find my way. Finally, in what seemed like hours (really was only minutes) I found another cop and we tried to figure out what to do. He had a women with him who was complaining of a head injury. We started to move and came upon another injured man who I tried, unsuccessfully, to pick up and drag. Finally, the dust started to settle and we met up with others. My eyes were killing me and I couldn’t see so well. Struggled on and found someone I knew who tried to get me help for my eyes.
At this point, my memory gets a bit sketchy. I tried to help carry some big O2 cannisters but was going blind. Then the north tower fell. I stumbled around some more and to make a long story short someone from my agency eventually got me to the hospital. I had severley scratched corneas and burns on my legs.
For the next few months I was very detached, depressed and profoundly disappointed in humanity. I felt I had no purpose. Not to get political, but how could these people hate so much.
Then someone asked me to run the Boston Marathon for the fallen law enforcement agents, officers and firemen. Eventhough I was out of shape I figured why not. I trained and found every step to be quite cathartic. I was hooked and ran three marathons but wanted much more of a challenge.
Someone I work with suggested training for the Ironman Hawaii. So I started doing sprints, then olympics, picked up a coach and did some HIMs. All, with my sights on Kona. I’m still trying to get there. Maybe I’ll get there-- maybe I won’t but this sport has lifted my soul and restored my faith in humanity. I remember getting ready to jump in to the Hudson River at 6:00 am to start the NYC Tri, smashed in between hundreds of people, and feeling so content. These are my people.
That’s why I train so hard.