I’m a runner. That’s not bragging and not a really deep, earth-shattering statement. I’m not particularly quick and I’m sure my style will never be imitated by any Olympic runner. But I can do it without falling down or having a heart attack, so at least there is some small point of pride.
I’m also a waver. As such, I often combine the two. I like to wave at the people that I meet when I’m running down the street. The ones in cars, on bikes, or on foot all get a wave. The cyclists and those on foot often get a hardy “howdy”. If they are fellow runners, I might offer a word of encouragement or joke about needing a third lung. The point is I acknowledge as many of them as I can.
Most times people return the salutation. Sometimes it’s a wave or a simple “hello”. However, there are some that don’t. That bothers me. These are likely the same people that “friend” strangers on social media whom they will probably never meet. And they certainly won’t be willing to drive them to the airport for an early flight, that being the ultimate sign of true friendship. And it’s all because they “liked” the same cat video. But waving back to someone?
I get “being in the zone” when you run or bike, but to be so much in the zone that you can’t acknowledge a fellow hack is a little troubling. If you’re driving and that unaware of a guy running on the sidewalk, I’m not sure you should be behind the wheel of a five thousand pound jogger-crushing machine.
I’m not so self absorbed that I think everyone should wave at me. I’m not that special. It’s more about common courtesy, which apparently is not as common as it once was. If someone does you the courtesy of acknowledging your existence with a simple wave, you should return the favor. I do it to show hospitality with the view that we’re all on this journey so we might as well make it a friendly one.
I wasn’t always a waver. I became such after riding with my father. I was 14, or there about, riding shotgun with Dad on the paper route that he took after he retired to stave off boredom and preserve my mom’s sanity. After a long career in law enforcement chasing bootleggers and going on stake outs, being home all the time was something neither of my parents was quite ready to handle.
I, on the other hand, thought it was great. My brother had moved out. Being eight years my senior, we didn’t exactly hang out together. We lived in the sticks on the lake with few neighbors, so having Dad at home gave me someone to hang with. We swam, fished, played tennis, and gardened together. Still he missed the road. So he took a job delivering the Atlanta Journal.
That is how I came to be with him on that particular day when I noticed him waving at the few cars encountered on the route. Curious I asked, “Who was that?”
“I don’t know,” he replied.
“Then why did you wave?”
“It’s what polite people do when they meet someone.”
From then on I picked up the habit. (Although they won’t say it aloud, 14 year old boys really want to be like their dads.) It just made sense. It was easy to do and actually made me feel good. It still does.
To be accurate, Dad wasn’t actually waving. He would do the one-finger lift off the steering wheel. This should not be confused with the one-finger salute. They are very different. The lift involves lifting the index finger of your left hand as it is resting on the upper part of the wheel at about the 10 o’clock position. In most cases it will illicit the same from the on-coming driver along with a smile.
The one-finger salute involves the middle finger and can result in a dented fender. And in some cases a bullet hole in the windshield depending on where you are driving. I don’t recommend it.
I once heard that even the slightest gesture of good will, including simply smiling or saying “hello”, toward a stranger can release endorphins in both people. Endorphins are those wonderful things that reduce stress and make your brain a little happier. That said, doesn’t it make sense that we all become wavers?
I don’t know about you, but my wee little brain could use all the endorphins it can get. It also seems that a simple wave could go a long way toward erasing some of the lines we humans always seem to want to draw. Race, income, education, age, religion, politics, and many other facets of life seem to do more to divide than unite.
So if you see a wheezing old guy in a sweaty tee shirt running along the road waving, he’s not having a stroke. He’s just being polite. Wave back and enjoy the endorphins.
Besides, even your best friend was a stranger when you first met.
