Love Letter to Lincoln
To Whom It May Concern (Bob?),
I thought I’d write to tell you a bit of my story.
I moved to DC in January 2013, fresh out of college, wondering what the world held in store. I lived in the city for that first year, moving five different times (Georgetown, Petworth, U Street, Arlington, Shaw) and feeling aimless. Though I had a good job I enjoyed, I struggled to make friends or feel at home. I dreamed of bigger and better places, and always teetered on the brink of finding a new job in a city where I felt more like I belonged. One night, after seeing something about this thing called November Project on Facebook, I decided to go out and give it a try. Running stairs at 6:30am? Sounded miserable, painful and kind of awesome. I set my alarm one Tuesday night, and the rest is history.
It wasn’t long before I realized that at Lincoln, I’d finally found “my place” in DC — community-wise, yes, but also location-wise. There are, truly, few places in the world like it. I’ve made some of my best friends at Lincoln, celebrated birthdays (mine and others) at Lincoln, even gotten a job offer at Lincoln. I also fell in love at Lincoln. I’ll never forget the moment when I first saw the person I then proceeded to date, fall for, live with, want to have children with. It was just below those marble steps, at about 6:29am on February 5th, 2014. For the next few weeks, we only saw each other on those steps, both suddenly too shy to say anything of substance to the other. 6:30am at Lincoln became my favorite time of the week. Not because I got to watch the beautiful sunrise or hug smiling strangers or do the heart-pounding workout (which was quickly causing me to be in insane shape). I loved it because that’s when I got to see his face.
Years later, when I got my heart broken by that same person, the first place I went the next day was Lincoln. Up before the sun, shivering in my winter workout clothes, I showed up because I needed to. I needed the hugs and the sunrise and the smiles, all the things that make our community great. I needed those stairs to kick my butt and let me know I was going to be okay. I needed to return to the place it all happened to grieve, process, and run as hard as my legs could.
Lincoln was chosen as our meeting point not because it is a monument or a contentious place or a public spot where we might get to “stick it to the man.” We are not trying to piss people off; we are trying to bring people together. Lincoln was chosen because those steps are HARD — have you tried running them? Do it a few times a month and you’ll get in the best shape of your life. And it’s not just Lincoln — Meridian’s hills will bring you to your knees (sometimes literally), Dupont Circle’s benches will make you wish you’d never heard the word “box jump” and the Georgetown waterfront’s long straightaways will test your lung capacity with each sprint (all in a good way, I promise). The places we choose we choose because not only do we feel that we’ve gotten the absolute best workout we can, we also feel more connected to the city we live in. We’ve pushed ourselves to the limit because of the physical spaces we’re so lucky to enjoy around the city. We’re better athletes and yes, better people because of the spaces November Project has occupied.
As a participant in November Project for over two years now, I see people come and go. I myself have moved away from DC, but I needed to write this letter because of how important these urban spaces have been in my life. And if you hear nothing else I write, hear this: the biggest thing I need to impart is the integrity of the leaders. Our leaders — first two, then three, now back to two — have tirelessly worked to abide by Park rules as well as allow us to have the best experience possible, time and again. They’re caring and conscientious; they’re creative on the fly when they need to be. They enforce noise ordinances and heed neighbor complaints and obey Park Police at a moment’s notice. And I have to reiterate: no one is intentionally trying to anger others. They only want what’s best for this community and our fitness goals. As a member of said community, I clearly understand what a privilege it is to work out in these urban spaces because of how deeply our leaders have ingrained that in each of us, every morning. They tirelessly plan workouts and always do so with the best intentions, both for our community of athletes as well as for the larger DC community as a whole.
I can’t say enough about this topic, clearly. But I know I need to finish up. So I’ll say it again: please, please don’t take Lincoln. Please don’t take Meridian. Please don’t take these spaces that mean so much to us, individually and as a collective whole. Please don’t take the places where I found some of my closest friends, learned how to love and heal from love, and carved an identity for myself. Sure, it’s easy to say that the group can move, that we can choose another spot. The ethos will be the same, right? Wrong. I hate to say it, but that’s definitely wrong. I speak for many others when I say: these public urban spaces are now imbued with such deep meaning that more than anywhere else in the city — arguably, in the world — they feel the most like home.
Sincerely,
Adds
