Remembering a Friend on the Anniversary of His Death

Today is the three year anniversary of the death of a good friend. Actually, he was more than a good friend. He was someone I ran with.

We make friends throughout our lives and we lose them, usually when we change jobs, or move, or simply make new friends when our interests change.  Some friends we stay in touch with sporadically through the years, some we rediscover through Facebook or chance meetings, and some we wonder why we never made more of an effort to stay in touch.  We make new friends, we move on, and life continues.  The friends we lose to death, however, are the ones whose memories visit us late at night, and the ones we can’t forget.I met Arshad through running.  We had a mutual friend, Rich, and both caught up with me early one Saturday morning on a nine mile loop around the lake.   We discovered we were all training for an upcoming local half marathon and decided to meet during the week for a few runs together.  Arshad and I were both relatively new to running and had never run a half marathon before, and we knew that training with someone else would be easier.    Also, I came to discover Arshad was the type of runner who enjoyed socializing and meeting new people more than he did running, so it made sense.  Even though he was tall, lean, and naturally fast, he would purposely hold back because the companionship was more important than the running.

Arshad

So we trained together.  Rich had run a marathon before (which was something I could never fathom doing at that time) and he was our biggest cheerleader.  He liked to run a few steps ahead of us and keep the pace.  Rich was also tall, so keeping up with the guys was good training for me.  We jokingly called ourselves “The Dream Team” and logged many miles together in preparation for the race.  I found out Arshad was from Bangalore, India and had gone to school in Chicago for engineering.  I got to know him as a person, and he was always happy and in a good mood.  We made plans to visit India one day with Arshad as our guide.

There’s something about pushing yourself physically with another person that bonds you to them.  Running mile after mile, through every type of weather and temperature imaginable, at impossibly early times in the day, you really get to know a person.  All your differences melt away with the miles you log together.

The day of the race arrived warmer than expected, and finishing was tougher than I thought it would be.  I made stupid rookie mistakes (eating something different for breakfast and going out way too fast at the start) and seriously considered bailing at mile 10.  I finished in 2:03 and Rich in 1:56.  Arshad finished in1:49.  I couldn’t believe how fast he had run his first half marathon.

The Dream Team

I joined the Dallas Running Club and talked Arshad into joining as well.  Our goal race was the Oklahoma City Half Marathon.  He didn’t want to run another race so soon but trained with us anyway.  I noticed that Arshad would run with any group, no matter the pace, and could usually be found in the back of the pack talking to any one of a number of pretty, young, female runners.  He always adjusted his running speed accordingly.

Rich was training for a full marathon, and sometimes the groups would converge and run together.  I was in awe of the full group and the distances they ran each week.  The seed was planted for me, but Arshad said no way, he’d rather stick to half marathons and run them really fast.  The months and the miles passed, and I noticed Arshad seemed to be running with the same group—and one girl in particular, Elizabeth–each week.  I was happy for him, but never got the chance to ask what was going on.

Arshad’s lease was up on his apartment and he decided to move to my complex on the other side of the lake.  I talked him into running the OKC Half Marathon with the group and we talked about reserving seats on the bus the running club had chartered.  During that same time his parents came to visit from India.  On our Wednesday night run he asked if I would join them and a few other friends for dinner and a movie on Friday.  I met his mom and dad, his ex-girlfriend, Jen, and some friends from church.  We had a great time, though he took some grief for the movie, an ultra-violent film festival entry about the war in the Middle East.  He said he thought his mom would like it.

Arshad's dad, mom, me, Jen, Arshad, and Sarah

The next week, just before our scheduled Wednesday night group run, it started to rain.  Arshad called to ask if I was going and I told him no.  Fifteen minutes later the storm passed and my phone rang.  Tempted to ignore it, I picked up and told Arshad I would meet him at the gate, knowing how guilty I would feel if I didn’t run.  The dark evening was beautiful, and everything at the lake glowed from the rain.  Arshad ran fast that night and it felt good to keep the pace.  When I made a random comment about hating to run into a headwind, he remarked, ever positive, that he liked it because it kept him cool.  He talked about how beautiful the trees at the lake were, and how it was his favorite place to run.

It was the last time we ran together.

We had made plans to drive together to the local train station for the start of our Saturday morning group run.  When I got up early the next morning I noticed a message on my phone.  It was Jen, telling me to call her as soon as I got the message.  Even though it was six o’clock in the morning, I immediately called.  She told me Arshad had been in a car accident the evening before, and it was fatal.  His mother was also killed, and his father was in critical condition.

He died on a busy street I travel on quite often, and it was a long time before I could drive past the spot where a manufacturing defect in one of his tires caused his death.  Two weeks after his death I ran the Oklahoma City Marathon without him.  I ran faster than I’d ever run, because I knew he couldn’t.  When I crossed the finish line and the medal was put around my neck by a bombing victim’s family member, I cried and asked if I could have another medal for the friend I had lost who hadn’t made it to the finish line with me.

At the OKC finish line

His death made no sense to me, and it never will.

Today, three years later, I think about him.  I can still hear his silly high-pitched laugh, and see a smile light up his face.   I remember his earnest curiosity of what made people who they are, and his love of deep conversations.  I remember the new running clothes he bought just before he died, and how he worried about what he looked like in them.  I remember his carefree approach to running that I am still trying to emulate.  He is in my thoughts every single race I run, especially the marathons I never had the chance to talk him into running.  More than anything else, I just miss him.

His friends got together and donated a tree and a plaque in his name at the Celebration Tree Grove at the lake.  We all think of him when we run past the spot, which is on the same route we ran that rainy night, days before he died.   A little bit farther up the road is the place where it is always windy.  It took me a long time, but now I smile when I think about how he could put a positive spin on everything, even running into the wind.

Rest in peace, Arshad Ahmed, and know you are not forgotten.

Arshad's plaque

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10 comments

  1. Numberz Runner

    I wanted to actually take the time to say thank you for sharing your story. I’m sure that must have been hard. It was very moving. And a wonderful tribute to him. I hope you’ve been able to find peace with Arshad’s passing. And perhaps over the years you’ll find others with whom you can share the passion and camaraderie of running just like you did with Arshad.

  2. Mind Margins

    Thank you for your kind words. He touched many lives in our running community in the short time we knew him. He was a great friend, and a great runner, and we will always miss him.

  3. meredith

    Really nice post, Angela. I had only run with Arshad a few times but I still remember hearing that shocking news.

  4. Shamshad

    Thanks so much for this amazing piece on him. Arshad was different from the rest . He was , is a role model for many . I am so touched to know that he is not forgotten, which is my biggest fear. He was so kind, funny and compassionate.He is missed so terribly. I wish I could turn back time and make this go away..Thanks Angela.
    Shamshad ( Arshad ‘s sis)

  5. Zahoor Ahmed

    Thank you Angela – This is Zahoor -Arshad’s dad. Your blog brought out old memories- I’d seen this just a few days back. It is good to know that he is not forgotten by his associates in so many areas. Happy New year to you and all the runners. All the best.
    Zahoor Ahmed

    • Mind Margins

      It is so good to hear from you. Arshad is very well remembered by everyone here in Dallas. His name came up in conversation just the other day after a run with some of his friends. I think of him often, especially when I am running at the lake, or when it is windy and I feel like complaining. We all miss him so much. He was one of the kindest persons I’ve ever known, and he never met a stranger. Everyone was an instant friend, and he had the biggest heart. Even though he is gone, he made a difference in the lives of everyone who knew him. Thank you for your message, and Happy New Year to you and your family.

  6. raji

    I read this article today as it was the only post that came up in google when I searched for him. I realized how I still search for news on him even long after he is gone. We met when we were just teenagers in college. He was the center of my universe at that time. Those impressions are imprinted so hard that I still wake up from dreams that deceive me with make-believe as if he is alive. It was consoling to read this article and know how many others miss him. Thanks for writing it.

  7. Mind Margins

    Raji, he made such an impression on everyone who knew him. I think about him all the time, especially when I run in the rain or run past his memorial at the lake. I still can’t believe he’s gone. He was a wonderful man, and he touched so many lives in the short time he was here. Thank you for your kind words.

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