I started running competitively in middle school. Running has always been an outlet for me and
even at that young age, I found peace in the sport. Looking back on all the meets in both track
and cross-country, my mom was by far my biggest fan. She literally blew out her vocal chords
cheering on my siblings and I during our sporting events and I will always be grateful for
her loving and unconditional support.
Win or lose, my mom was there with a smile on her face at the end of
each race.
At some point in time, around the end of my high school
career, my mom started running with me.
Maybe you could say that my mom taught me to love and I taught her to
run. We started walking together at first, then
jogging and then slowly but surely we began to run. Looking back and remembering those runs up
and down the back-country roads of Indiana makes my heart happy. We would talk, laugh and even sometimes cry
as we dealt with both the happy and the heartbreak in our lives.
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| Chicago Marathon 2012 |
Unfortunately I also dealt with a lot of injury and sickness
as a result of running. Over the years I
had knee and back injuries as well as chronic bronchitis and sports induced
asthma. Ironically these issues led my mom and I to running our first half marathon. In
the spring of 1996, I was running track for Indiana University and came down
with walking pneumonia and was forced to take leave from the team. I was heartbroken, but was not cleared to
continue the grueling three hours of sprint conditioning I had been
undertaking. So my mom, knowing how disappointed I was, came up with the
idea of running the Indy Mini, a half marathon held around the Indy 500 every
year. During that race, my mom the
runner, was truly born. She has gone on to run multiple Marathons and had even qualified to run Boston this year. However, at the urging of her family as a result of the toll that the October Chicago Marathon took on her, she didn't. None the less, I know her heart was there that day and aches for all of her fellow runners and their supporters who were mercilessly attacked during one of the most peaceful sporting events that graces our country.
Today President Barack Obama spoke of the resilience of
those in Boston by paralleling the runner who fell, only to get back up again
and finish the race. I really related to
that, as I am sure many did. He also
spoke of Martin Richard, the eight year old little boy who was killed during the Boston Bombings and his symbolic picture of Peace as seen in the Boston Globe. So today, my mom's birthday, I decided to run for her, Martin and all those affected by the Boston Bombings. My mom is known in Placitas as "Our Lady of the open road" because she waves to all those she passes. This inspired me to greet everyone who passed me tonight with a salutation of my own, a peace sign. With Martin and my mom in my heart I smiled and said "Peace" to each and every car that went by.
As I said, I may have taught my mom to run, but she taught me to love. I believe that the ability I have to love deeply, talk to strangers like friends and even feel their pain like they were my own family, is a gift from my mom. She carries the weight of the world on her shoulders and has been my own inspirational example of how to get back up when you've been knocked down. I could have just run for me tonight, but because of my mom I ran for more, I ran for peace, for healing and for love.
I love you momma! You are a true light in the lives of everyone you know... and even those you don't!
Happy Birthday!
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