Tom Joyce

    This little phrase, which became popular among runners when the modern resurgence of long distance running began in the 1970’s, actually came from a short story written in 1959.  It was the story of a poor English boy who used running to deal with the dismal life he had.
     When I started my run at the Arboretum this evening it was the first thing that I thought about. I’m not sure that running alone is automatically lonely; sometimes it is meditative; sometimes it is therapeutic; sometimes it is just something you do because it is training. I was hopeful that I would meet someone else there and when I pulled into the parking area, there was a runner in the car already parked. But that runner pulled out having finished their run. Then I saw a runner coming but that runner didn’t stop – not a Peace Trotter. I waited until 5:25, made a running plan and took off. That is when I thought of the short story. And I felt lonely. So come on people-
Tom’s feeling lonely, let’s keep him company.
     Then I thought of Alberto Salazar, A Cuban-American professional and Olympic runner. Salazar was well known for his philosophy of running with injuries, running through injuries and ignoring injuries. He reckoned that if training for 120 miles a week produced certain results, then running for 180 or 200 miles a week would produce 50% better results.
     Well, sure enough, part way through the run, my left leg started aching and cramping. I thought to myself, this thinking about loneliness and extreme training is going to be the death of me this evening. I had struggled through the winter with an aching, nervy left leg. But I had gotten through that and this was a surprise. So I started trying all the things runners try when some part of their body is rebelling. We Christians pray about it. Hmm, that worked for a few minutes. Focus on the injury, give it attention and breathe into it. That actually works with stomach cramps. Not so much with legs.
     The thing about running is that you can always stop and walk. Mostly, you’re the only judge of yourself. I tried that briefly but it didn’t help. So then I’m thinking, “You know what if it’s a bad, bad injury sooner or later you’ll just take a step on your left foot, you’ll fall down and that would be that.” And if that happened, “It’s just pain and you’ll just feel what it’s like for now and then it will be over.” Then I had a novel thought; my right leg; in fact the whole right side of my body feels great. It’s really strong. That part of me is just going to take over and finish this run. And it did. It pulled my left side along, which felt like it was limping, but when I looked, my left stride just looked normal.
     Later I thought about the story in Matthew’s gospel that “if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away! It is much better for you to lose one of your limbs than to have your whole body go off to hell.”  But that didn’t make any sense either.
     So there you go, you never know what will happen when you go running. Doesn’t it sound like fun!

It was a nice rainy day today. In spite of which, I decided to go running at the Arboretum as planned. Although I was soaking wet by the time I came back to the car, I was really happy that I did it. There is something about being at peace in all of the natural world that we are blessed with. I felt it this day. It was running through mud puddles and not caring how it felt. Hey, boys will be boys. It was smelling the sweet blossoms of trees that were only in full bloom this one day. It was seeing a blue jay alight behind the tree as I ran by. It was seeing a flock of robins spread out on the grasses of the meadow. As Henry Thoreau was quoted, while sitting in the rain, “Every little pine needle expanded and swelled with sympathy and befriended me.”  I was so glad that I went out running in the rain today. And I would be glad for your company next Thursday 5:15 at the Arboretum sculpture garden. I believe it is going to be a good day for running.
Tom Joyce
May 4, 2017

by Steve Vanek

To foster greater appreciation of running among young people in our community, Peace Trot organizer Tom Joyce worked with the Lehman Alternative Community School (LACS) during these late winter months to take a weekly run on Ithaca’s wonderful Cass Park and Waterfront Trails.  I’ve joined the group for three of their weekly meetings, and they have been a courageous bunch, as anyone who runs in an Ithaca winter knows: coming home with soggy feet from the windswept expanses seems to be a given, and for those new to running, keeping an even pace for a few miles while facing the inevitable aches and pains of a new physical activity has taken real courage.  Some of the best times we’ve had have been dividing into teams and running short relay races where we cheer each other on, allowing the creativity and supportiveness of the LACS community to shine through.  As I am reminded of my own first experiences with running as a middle school student in Ithaca decades ago, a reflection/mantra on running as a microcosm of life comes to me: “we run to be together, we run to be outdoors, we run to look out for each other, we run because any run enlivens our bodies and our minds, we run to leave it all behind, we run to visit our communities, we run to overcome, we run to challenge each other.”  Maybe you out there have your own phrase to add to this mantra as you take on your daily run, walk, bike ride, or other efforts in life. For me, the peace trot is celebration of this microcosm of life as running, refracted into the messages of peacemaking that Peter DeMott spoke for, and the Ithaca Catholic Workers and groups like them around the world continue to bring us.
 
Thanks so much Tom for organizing this LACS group!

          Louie and I were talking about Peter the other day.  I said at one point, “In the last eight years, he probably would have been arrested 10 times for acts calling for disarmament and world peace. And he would have spent 10 or 11 months in jail.”  When I thought about this later, I thought yes that and he would have done a lot more.  He would have loved his wife another eight years.  He would have loved and supported his 4 daughters in many ways.  He would have run a bunch more miles on this good earth.  He would have performed another eight years worth of random acts of kindness.  I, you and Joe Smoe would have been the recipients.
         Isn’t that what all of us would expect and hope we would do if we had another eight years to live beyond our actual life span……
         Louie and I talk about Peter a lot partly because the three of us met at the same time.  It happened to be on a car ride when four of us were to join a protest at the commissioning of a nuclear armed Trident submarine in Groton, Connecticut.  We talked back and forth about what to expect.  We knew that some people were planning to blockade the entrance to the shipyard where people would be going in to see the commissioning.  It would be a blessing of the boat, breaking a bottle of champagne on the hull and all of that. We also knew that people going in had to have tickets.  But we didn’t make any particular plans and actually had no idea what to expect the next day.
         As I was thinking about writing this piece, I read about someone that reminded me of Peter’s action that day.  I’ll come back to that reading directly.
         Anyway, it turned out that on that day Peter enacted what was to become the 2nd in a long series of aptly named Ploughshares disarmament actions.  He and Michael were given tickets to the ceremony and promptly joined the crowd inside.  Louie and I joined the blockade of protestors at the entrance.
         At some point in the shipyard warehouse, Peter noticed a maintenance van unlocked with its keys in the ignition standing near the hull of the Trident.  He took it upon himself to get in the van, start it up and back it into the submarine – doing symbolic damage to the hull (well, and smashing up the van a little, too).  And thus enacting the admonition in Isaiah 2:4 to “hammer their swords in to plows and their spears into pruning knives.”
         There was no great plan.  He seems to have just found himself someplace.  And then he did what he did. It’s not completely unusual that we find ourselves somewhere or in some state of mind and that we act in the moment.  For those of us guided and inspired by the Spirit, we’re not surprised or afraid of those moments. I mentioned earlier that I had just read about someone who reminded me of Peter. It is Feyisa Lilesa.
         Feyisa Lilesa is an Ethiopian marathon racer. Feyisa finished second in this past summer’s Olympics in Brazil.  Feyisa is an ethnic Oromo, who suffer discrimination at the hands of Ethiopia’s repressive government.  Human Rights Watch reports that “in 2016 Ethiopian security forces killed hundreds and detained tens of thousands in the  Oromia and Amhara regions; progressively curtailed basic rights during a state of emergency; and continued a bloody crackdown against largely peaceful protestors in disputes that have flared since November 2015 over land displacement, constitutional rights and political reform.”
         Feyisa’s brother-in-law has been imprisoned for a year, reportedly having been tortured.  His brother, Aduna Lilesa, also a runner, was beaten and detained by the Ethiopian military.
         As Feyisa crossed the finish line in Rio, he crossed his arms in clenched fists, the symbol of Orono resistance.
         Here’s the thing.  Feyisa talked about the urgency he felt to make some protest gesture, but he told no one about an intention to do so.  But when he got to the finish line he knew his moment had come.  His wife, two children and dozens of relatives and friends, watching in Addis Ababa, went from cheering to stunned silence. They had no idea that he would do what he did.  Fearful of going back to Ethiopia, Feyisa obtained a travel visa to come to the United States.  His wife, Iftu Mulisa and two children Sora and Soko have finally been able to join them in mid February.  He is currently training in Arizona for the April London marathon.  The family hopes that he gets the green card that he has applied for. 
         As I sit here, thinking about Peter and Feyisa, I’m reminded of Daniel Berrigan saying, “Know where you stand. And stand there.”