Dear Mr. Vogel,
I would like to share with you a small portion of what November Project means to me personally. While I attend on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, I specifically want to share what running at Lincoln Memorial means to me, because, to be quite honest, I am not sure I would have showed up to my first workout if I heard it was taking place at a track or at the Georgetown Waterfront or some other location in DC. If I wanted to do that there are countless other groups I could have joined and while I might have met new people and improved my running ability, I firmly believe I would not have had the same experience described below. Thank you for all you do and for the time to consider the impact November Project has on a weekly basis.
When I look at Lincoln Memorial I see hope. I see a public space that brings together individuals and makes them a community. A space that makes that community stronger — mentally, physically and emotionally. A community that has hope for the future and a belief that a group of crazy, fitness loving people can make a difference.
When I look a Lincoln Memorial I see love. Love for a stranger who is having a bad run. Love for a tribe member who has lost a family member. Love for a community who has been targeted and terrorized by violence.
When I look at Lincoln Memorial I see power. I see men and women who have overcome. Overcome obesity. Overcome cancer. Overcome years of thinking that they will never be the type of person to wake up at 5:30am and run up a set of beautiful stairs again and again.
When I look at Lincoln Memorial I see family. I see three beautiful, amazing roommates I might have never met otherwise. I see a wonderful, inspiring boyfriend who pushes me to be a stronger version of myself. I see the incredible people I have traveled across the world to reconnect with time and time again.
When I look at Lincoln Memorial I see myself. I see a displaced, lonely and out of shape 22 year old sleeping on the floor of a NOMA sublet wondering if I would ever find my place in this city. I see myself the first time I just showed up and barely was able to run the entire workout. I see myself hug stranger after stranger that became friend after friend. I see myself as I come around the corner at the top and give Lincoln a little smirk, because without him, without this space, I wouldn’t have the privilege of knowing such great hope, love, power and most importantly, family.
Sincerely,
Erin Owenby
