A strip of running path bordered by grass mediums, trees, picnic tables and sculptures,
the river and a lower running path to my right, and wide one-way Front Street on my left, this is my Cheers.
I hear someone call “Hey, Mar…” and see a waving arm out the window, recognizing the vehicle with marathon placards on the tailgate. Several minutes later a light tap on a horn and a wave, my husband on his way to a meeting or, depending on the day, off to pick up the Sunday NY Times.
A trio of young women emerge up a ramp from the lower path. I’m acquainted with two of them and we exchange information on surface conditions on the path.
The cast of characters on that much loved sitcom covered a wide demographic. Runners at my Cheers include surgeons and mailmen, bureaucrats and politicians, fitness instructors and educators. Although many that I recognize along the path and who recognize me are in their 30’s and 40’s, there are plenty of us much younger and much older.
Not everybody knows my name. Like Cheers, there are the background characters. During a mid-day run, I make my way through a tag game among children and teacher out for recess. On a Sunday morning, a few couples walking arm-in-arm to one of the nearby churches. Almost anytime during the day, I will pass the occasional homeless folk.
They along with a few downtown workforce taking a bag lunch and a break in the park, are not the main characters but are a backdrop to my Cheers. I know their faces, they know mine. Add to that tourists who flag me to take their photo with the Susquehanna in the background and the stage set to my Cheers is complete.
I didn’t expect a slice of riverside land would weasel itself into the fabric of my life, but there it is. A place where almost everybody knows my name, and I know their name, their gait, their pace and their friendship. Sometimes it takes a frigid winter morning to know you are at your Cheers.