First of all let it be known that my mom was a little appalled that I took up running late in life. Actually, she was very appalled that I took up at all. At first, she kind of ignored it, like maybe I would see her wisdom and come around. She was always afraid that women who did things like ride bikes got big leg calves….and then how could you wear cute boots in the winter. Then, when it looked like I was sticking with running, she sent me encouraging articles from the newspaper that told about athletes especially runners who dropped dead in the middle of a race or even in practice.
I ran my first marathon when I turned fifty. I called her afterwards. “Mom, I just ran a marathon.” She responded with something like, “Thank Goodness, you are still alive. I am so glad that you didn’t get hurt.”
If she were to see me today, seven years later, she would shake her head, and then remind me to at least “wear a hat to save your face from the sun.” And she would tell me that if I wanted to get better, every day counts. Mom was a professional violinist, and even as an adult, she practiced every day. Consistency is the key.
Today, day 4, I ran a bit on the Wheaton College track. The only people there were two men, an older gentleman who kept up a pretty good pace, and a middle-aged man who looked like he was going to die any minute. But we were there. And glad that it wasn’t still raining. And it made me think that even when it feels like I am only going in circles, God may be equipping me for something else entirely.
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