Passage of Time
In my email Wednesday morning was a note from Ralph Swenson that Bill Mares had passed on Monday, invoking the Death With Dignity option allowed in Vermont. I knew Bill’s passing was imminent and had dropped off a note on Saturday expressing my gratitude for the friendship we have shared.
Bill was an unusual person whose influence could not be summed up by any particular endeavor. His handles included writer, author, legislator, commentator, journalist, beekeeper, home brewer, teacher, scholar, father, husband, and grand-dad. But Bill was also a committed runner and some of my contact with him over the years revolved around that activity. Running fit into his life rather than his various roles fitting into running. His running companions were longtime friends. Their enroute banter covered the gamut: local, national, and global politics, literature, and other current affairs. Bill loved running but was not obsessed by it. I never heard him mention keeping a log. He ran around 30 marathons, including three Boston’s, which meant he was good enough to qualify for that iconic event. He would jump into shorter races at times but did not schedule his busy life around races.
Bill was generous with his time and advice. He co-authored a memoir with Rick Peyser that chronicled Rick’s efforts to develop sustainable coffee sourcing while with Green Mountain Coffee Roasters. That project entailed many Sunday afternoons walking and talking and then hours of editing. He reviewed my second draft of Senior Distance Running Essentials and provided valuable feedback. And he encouraged me to write a memoir about my own experience with running. That project, A Running Odyssey, is a work in progress that I regret Bill will not be able to help with.
This same morning I headed to the UVM track for a 6:30 a.m. track workout. It was going to be a very hot and humid day and a trio of Green Mountain Athletic Association runners I knew, two in their 30s, one early 40s, were doing mile repeats. As they circled at sub 6:00 pace, I was doing 800s topping out at 7:10 pace. I was having to drive hard – they looked to be striding more than driving.
Both Bill’s passing and watching these guys were a reminder that time marches on leaving much in its wake, which will eventually include all of us. While we’re still here, we’ll experience changes we’d rather not encounter. That might be as fundamental as a health scare or as inconsequential as our pace on the track or at races. Whatever the circumstances, living a full life means taking care of the things we have some control over and rolling with the punches that may come our way.
Bill packed a lot into his days and years, making good use of the time he had. He offered a reminder to each of us who knew him to do the same. On the running front, as our aging cohort at the races shrinks, we can celebrate that a new breed follows in our footsteps, on their way toward first getting faster then slowing down. That’s how it works!
p.s. Here is a link to Paul Heinz’s account of Bill’s life that gives much more detail than I’ve provided.