As I was part-way through my run this morning, a car drove up beside me. The driver had a familiar face so I pulled out my ear buds and shook her hand. It had been 49 days since we met in almost the same exact spot, along my usual neighborhood running course. On that day, I began to stagger uncontrollably and eventually stumbled into the street. I thought for a moment that I might have had a stroke. She saw me sitting at the side of the road and offered assistance. I told her that I had not lost consciousness and seemed able to communicate my situation. A few minutes later, she drove me home.

When I saw her this morning, I was immediately grateful for her unselfish actions. I’m sure she was late for work and the last thing she wanted was a total stranger in her car. She was also very insistent that I go to the Emergency Room for some tests. After she carefully escorted me to my front door, my wife took me to the Hospital. I think her name was Amy, but I had no way to contact her and express my thanks until we crossed paths again.

This morning I had that chance, but traffic kept our conversation short. I was able to tell her that the battery of tests proved negative and that dehydration was probably the cause. I’m sure I’ll see her again, since our morning routines seem to occasionally intersect. I run every day at about the same time before my wife leaves for the office. It’s my way of not rubbing-in my retirement, practicing the same discipline that once used to start my work day. It’s now been 3,720 consecutive days, 796 of those since leaving my cubical behind.

As I left Amy behind today and continued along my route, I thought about how fortunate I was to be running this morning. My “Streak” could have ended when she found me alongside the street. Fortunately, I was at about the mile-and-a-half mark when the dizzy spell began. The simple rule of maintaining a running streak is to complete a minimum of a mile every day. I knew I had accomplished that before we headed to the E.R., where running steaks often stop. Mine has continued another 49 days since that little stumble.

There has not been another hiccup in my “Streak” since that day, but every morning I can finish that first mile is both an honor and a blessing. I need that simple accomplishment to get tomorrow and the next day started. “The Streak” is a major part of my personal being, but I know that life is fragile. Either could end at any time, but only the running streak could start anew. I often wonder what my “Streak Stopper” will ultimately be?