Running for Tragedy

In case you’re wondering how I did on Saturday, not only did I survive, but I was NOT the last person to cross the finish line. In fact, as predicted, I ended somewhere in the middle. More importantly, I finished. I set out to try a new thing, to do it for a good cause, and I did it.

And look, I didn’t even keel over afterward! Though I did get sprayed by a fire hose.(Yeah, I'm the short one.)

But sore muscles and wet clothes were not my only takeaway. Before the run, the parents of the little boy in whose memory Cooper's Run was created, stood to talk to the crowd, explaining how the raised money would go to help special needs children, and how their son would have been amazed and impressed at all the people who showed up to run that morning.

Those parents took their heart-wrenching tragedy and turned it into a blessing which has touched the lives of many, many others. By all rights, they could have crawled into deep depression and spent the last two years wallowing in grief. Instead, they’ve found therapy in service—and have magnified that service into a huge event which has rallied an entire community to also support and serve.

I think there’s a lesson in that. If ever I’m tempted to feel sorry for myself, I’d do well to remember Cooper’s family and their example. And if nothing else, go for a good long run instead.

Everything I've Got

Guess what I’m doing tomorrow? I’m running (or maybe speed-walking) my first ever 5k. It’s called Coopers Run, which is a great cause, so of course I’m looking forward to it. Well, mostly.

First problem: I am not a runner. Never been a runner. Therefore, I will very probably be somewhat slow.

Granted, I spend a lot of time at the gym. Always have. And I have been running lately, which is why I was okay with this. But the truth is, running is not my favorite form of exercise. (And yes, believe it or not, I DO like to work out.)

Second problem: I will be running this 5k with a whole lot of police officers (and some wives) who happen to be my husband’s peers, and who are required to pass a twice-yearly physical fitness test which involves running. Some of these guys run marathons for fun on their days off. I am not joking.

Also, my two very athletic daughters, who will undoubtedly leave me in the dust from the beginning.

But again, I’m okay with this. Even if I get left behind and am the absolute last person to cross the finish line (which, FYI, I severely doubt. I’m in decent enough shape that I could walk it in a decent time), I will still be glad I did it. Because once I finish, I will do so knowing that I gave it my all.

That’s really the crux of everything, isn’t it? It doesn’t necessarily matter who gets there first, or who comes in last, or which of us stagger through somewhere in between, so much as it matters that we dedicate ourselves to a higher purpose and give it everything we’ve got.

It’s really the only way to be successful in this world.

Wish me luck!