Humility, On the Run
Today I am grateful for morning quiet after a restful night, a good run yesterday, and the anniversary of my last drunk today.
Humility and gratitude go hand in hand. Humility to me means knowing and remembering my place in the world. I am neither more than or less than, I am. Living gratefully is a good daily reminder of this place called the present.
The half-marathon Darcy and I ran yesterday presented opportunities to delve into this idea of humility:
*Striking up a conversation with a fellow runner through some of the early and middle miles of the race. She was running for a young man in his twenties who died of an enlarged heart earlier this year. I spoke to her of my sister Mary Jo's cancer and how a walk around the block for her on a post-chemo day is as meaningful as our 13 miles. I was able to watch this woman finish for her friend.
*A woman and her son who I kept seeing at various places along the route. They were cheering on someone in my vicinity. We got to joking the last couple times we crossed paths, and I saw them near the finish too. A few smiles shared helped me keep going.
*A younger man who had gotten off to a good start but hit a wall, humbled by the weather or any number of factors. A good reminder that being able to run is a privilege and a blessing.
*I say I am not competitive, but I am with myself. I had set a time goal and I hit it. A tight hamstring I have been nursing for a couple weeks reminded me that this is just one run, to not jeopardize my fall marathon training. Yet, overlying that was my wish to hit that goal in honor of Mary Jo, to push up a hill when I came to one, a lesser obstacle than the ones she is facing. My mantra in the last miles became "be a running machine for Mary Jo."
*Being able to see Darcy finish, as well as my friend Kelly and her husband Whitey. The heat was taking a toll, so I am always relieved to see Darcy come around the corner. I appreciate a spouse who shares my hobby, and friends who do too.
*As I reflect this morning, and walk off a little soreness, I settle on the anniversary of my last drunk.
That is a lesson in humility like none other.
A lesson I never want to forget. Living gratefully helps me remember and appreciate, in the right ways, the ways that keep me running and recovering. A day at a time, a stride at a time.
Humility and gratitude go hand in hand. Humility to me means knowing and remembering my place in the world. I am neither more than or less than, I am. Living gratefully is a good daily reminder of this place called the present.
The half-marathon Darcy and I ran yesterday presented opportunities to delve into this idea of humility:
*Striking up a conversation with a fellow runner through some of the early and middle miles of the race. She was running for a young man in his twenties who died of an enlarged heart earlier this year. I spoke to her of my sister Mary Jo's cancer and how a walk around the block for her on a post-chemo day is as meaningful as our 13 miles. I was able to watch this woman finish for her friend.
*A woman and her son who I kept seeing at various places along the route. They were cheering on someone in my vicinity. We got to joking the last couple times we crossed paths, and I saw them near the finish too. A few smiles shared helped me keep going.
*A younger man who had gotten off to a good start but hit a wall, humbled by the weather or any number of factors. A good reminder that being able to run is a privilege and a blessing.
*I say I am not competitive, but I am with myself. I had set a time goal and I hit it. A tight hamstring I have been nursing for a couple weeks reminded me that this is just one run, to not jeopardize my fall marathon training. Yet, overlying that was my wish to hit that goal in honor of Mary Jo, to push up a hill when I came to one, a lesser obstacle than the ones she is facing. My mantra in the last miles became "be a running machine for Mary Jo."
*Being able to see Darcy finish, as well as my friend Kelly and her husband Whitey. The heat was taking a toll, so I am always relieved to see Darcy come around the corner. I appreciate a spouse who shares my hobby, and friends who do too.
*As I reflect this morning, and walk off a little soreness, I settle on the anniversary of my last drunk.
That is a lesson in humility like none other.
A lesson I never want to forget. Living gratefully helps me remember and appreciate, in the right ways, the ways that keep me running and recovering. A day at a time, a stride at a time.
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