Perspective

Today was one of those days. You know the kind. The run of the mill - I've done this before - no surprises - it's going to be a good day - kind of day. Today I was going to Albert's 10K as a support buddy. No running for me. After coming back from pneumonia I was lucky enough to throw my back out. Maybe I should buy some lottery tickets.... If you thought I complained during the pneumonia bout, well that paled when my back decided to plan a revolt of it's own (likely just to get some attention). So support buddy/spectator was my role and I was good with that. Why? Well first off Albert has been there for me and it's never as fun to go to a race alone. Then there's the role of a spectator - no pre-race nerves, pace pressure, or concern that the Honey Bucket line is too long.

The race had three sub races weaved in. There was a 10K, 5K, and 1 mile walk. After the 10K started I began to feel a bit sorry for myself. "Wish I could run" pumped in and out of my brain. Then the 5K runners took off. As I watched them burn through the start line and slip around the corner and out of sight, I could feel the frustration build inside. It's not fair I thought, I train hard and I deserve to be out there. I know I can beat a lot of them. Stupid back. Why does it have to be so freakin sore? So I walk over and pour a free cup of coffee from one of the vendor booths and continue to tell myself how unfair the world can be....unfair to me.

I hear the race director announce that the 1 mile walk is about to begin. One mile walk. I nearly laughed out loud. Gee, that's some test of endurance, walking a whole mile. The horn goes off and walkers glide past me. It was almost silly. Some of them in matching hats, others in matching shirts, and still others fiddling with their iPODs. My eyes are on the pack as they slowly round the corner - seeee ya! I say to myself. I turn back towards the start line and at that moment my day started to change. I saw a young boy maybe 8 years old using a walker with his mom by his side. He had maybe traveled 20 feet in the time everyone else had covered a couple blocks. His short shuffle steps barely moved him forward and mom was right behind him, her hands close to the walker but not quite touching it. He was proudly wearing his race number on the front of his shirt and the smile and pride on his face as he inched forward melted your heart. I cut across the grass to watch his progress. Every step deliberate, every moment special.

I walked back to the start/finish line no longer feeling that life was being unfair to me. Actually the little guy had choked me up a little. Life has tossed him a crappy card and there he was, giving that one mile everything he had. His picture is off to the left. At the finish line I began to see many special needs kids coming down the home stretch. Each one in their own way pushing hard at the finish. There were only a few spectators but the cheering was infectious. I was right there with them clapping and yelling as one after another they came across the finish line. I had tears on my cheeks and didn't care. Today was a good day. An unexpected day. A day I wish we could all experience. Perspective....it's a good thing.