Another Medal for Her Hook
A 40 something mother snuck away one morning to face one of her many adventures on the trails. She was alone as she began the first lap of three through the woods. The sun was hot, the humidity was high and her anxiety abundant. She was a running addict who knew her weaknesses, knew her legs weren’t as strong as her mind but also knew that when the pain began around kilometer twenty she would no longer be alone. Just like God’s presence was there in the crashing waves of her last run, it was there that day with her. He was in the plethora of butterflies that crossed her path, the gentle breezes that wiped the sweat from her eyes, even in the tree roots that grabbed at her feet. She spoke to him of her goals and hopes, of her mistakes and regrets and in the final few kilometers she begged for his strength and encouragement.
After a medal was finally hung over her neck and pizza shoved into her mouth, she hobbled down to the beach to peel the socks off her feet and wade into the freezing water. There in that water she found relief. She found a quiet moment to be grateful. Most importantly she found herself. The brave self. The determined self. The self that she sometimes lost in the overwhelming moments of life and that needed to be found again and again for her to be the person she knew she could be.