“If I lose the light of the sun, I will write by candlelight, moonlight, no light. If I lose paper and ink, I will write in blood on forgotten walls. I will write always. I will capture nights all over the world and bring them to you”
― Henry Rollins
My running and training lately has taken on a new dimension. One that’s not singular in nature. So often in a sport that consists of simply putting one foot in front of the other we find ourselves becoming enveloped in self discovery, self reflection, self EVERYTHING. It’s finishing MY race, getting inside MY head, getting MY time, telling MY stories. But, my stories aren’t what compels me these days.
I want to tell you the stories of my baby girls, like how the the other day while watching TV I caught my four year old Cate doing sit-ups. When I asked her what she was doing she said simply, “abs.” Or that she runs, everywhere, and joyfully asks me to race or simply invites me to chase her. Or how my older daughter scored three goals in back to back soccer games earning her the nickname “hat trick” and how our time in the backyard has given me a new appreciation for her drive and her commitment to getting better. Finding her own identity as an athlete.
It’s my best friend Margaret who went and crewed for two friends in a Triple and Double Ironman event, easily pacing over 40 miles – not one of which was leading her towards her own finish line.
I want to tell you about my new friends Irene and Lenny who finished their first races in Staten Island after six months of work and of effort in the making and Irene’s daughter watching her mom cross a finish line and earning more than a medal that morning.
Or how my training partner and best friend Casey has returned from back to back injuries and is hitting two a day training sessions and that glow is starting to come back in her smile, in her laugh. Finding herself again. My friend Chris who’s devastating neck injury keeps him from the workouts but not the people he loves in his CrossFit gym.
It’s my sister who runs despite pain, discomfort, four kids, full-time schooling, and still finds time to call and ask about my day. It’s my mom who never misses a workout despite shin injuries and constant demands and forever taking care of others. She’s never let anyone down in her life. She’s who I hope to make proud. It’s my dad.
It’s Brent, Alyssa, Shannon, Chris, Mike, Jenny, Katy, Maurya, Monica, Kim, Leyla, Lynn, Todd, Jeff, Ryan, Mike, Keith, Shonda, Rachel, Rodorigo, Sammy, Niki, Shawn, Tom, Angela, David, Wendy, Kat, Brynn, Sarah, Kristina. It’s so many more I don’t have room to write. It’s a reminder that I have so much to be thankful for.
I’m given so much, shown so much, reminded so often that it’s so very much NOT about me. It’s about THEM. I’m just lucky to have a front row seat.