RIP Sally Meyerhoff

I’m late in getting to this, but that’s just because it deserved a full week’s reflection before I put pen to paper. Last Tuesday, Sally Meyerhoff was killed. While on a normal afternoon training ride, the kind I’m sure she had done a thousand times before, her bike collided with a pickup truck, ending her life instantly. Everything I've read about her over the last few years said she is vibrant, energetic, accomplished, young, and a genial & good person. Now she’s nothing in the present tense except gone.

I feel the greatest of sympathies for her family, but I've also had troubles of my own dealing with the news. I didn't know Sally personally. I used to see her running on the canal in Phoenix and Scottsdale early in the morning sometimes, and I met her briefly last year (during which time she was extremely personable and humble, and this the day before she won a big half-marathon in NYC), but that is the extent of my contact with her.

What I see in her tragic and sudden end is my own mortality. Sally was my age and was living the life I dreamed of: she was a gifted and dedicated runner who had turned it into her life's pursuit. Running was her craft, and she was good enough to make a living from it too. She was living her life through accomplishment and betterment of her self, body, and mind. I only wish I had the talent or resources to spend my ephemeral youth doing that.

Reading Sally's blog is both chilling and heartwarming by the timing of the statement she chose to make just two days before her most tragic accident:

"I cannot express how HAPPY I am with where I am in my life right now though, and how grateful I feel for being able to do what I do. I just wouldn't trade it for anything and any time I am feeling not very motivated, I think about how miserable I feel when I am not training or doing something else I don't LOVE. I totally and completely love this life I'm living and the most fabulous thing is that I know it's only going to get 20 times better by the end of the year. Woo hoo baby!"

How often do we make such proclamations, or even have the awareness of truths like this? Not often, and we're lucky when we have that type of clairvoyance. It makes me shiver to think about Sally writing these words not 48 hours before her life ended, but also gives me comfort and affirmation that she died living the life she wanted and doing the one activity she enjoyed more than any other.

I hope this is the wake-up call that makes me appreciate life for every moment, and make sure those closes to me know how special they are.

-John