Up and Over

I'm no marathoner. I'm not a flashy yogini. I like to do a lot of things, and I am mostly average or slightly below par in most of them.

I've learned to run. I'm not fast. For me, being able to run 3-5 miles without losing my breath is a BIG deal! I couldn't do that as a teenager. With age, I've learned about pacing. With time, I've learned the value of intentions.

There've been a lot of "I" statements in this post so far. Not all of this is about me. Some of it is about YOU.

You who struggle.

You who have bad days.

You who ask for prayers.

You who keep fighting - though your income has dipped or your relationship falters...

Yep. Some of my running is for you.

Up and over this hill. Not a steep incline. A gradual one. One that on hot or particularly blustery days, can seem endless.

When I know you are struggling, I take you with me.

I call to you, "C'mon! C'mon! Don't you see the top? Let's get it!"

I take the boy who beat cancer and the one who's almost there on every climb. Sometimes, I take the wife of a police officer, or the single mom, or the single dad. Lately I've added the drug addicts and their families. Sometimes I take a whole farm (and all the farms!) with me. Sometimes I take the teachers, the administrators, the aides of special needs kids, the special needs kids, my kids, my family... the dog I saw that came up missing (I sometimes figure my dog, Storm, has that one's back on that particular outing).

There's a whole team at my back and do you know what?

WE make it over this hill EVERY SINGLE TIME.

Believe me. You were there. Did you feel it? I always ask on the way back down. I hope you feel as empowered as I do. You see, I needed you, as much as you needed me.

That's the point.