Jolts and second chances


Her words made my heart drop to my knees.

“I am not wearing black. I am not planning a funeral. I am not explaining to my little boy that his dad is in heaven but will always be with him in his heart,” a friend of mine from childhood wrote on Facebook.

Her post knocked me out of my cheap little self and grounded me.

My friend’s husband suffered a heart attack recently. Their son is age 7. I believe my girlfriend turned 50 in the last year. Like me she had children when she was older. I have not seen her in person in years, but I know what it’s like to get a shot at a family and some of your dreams later in life. 

She went on to say her husband’s health seemed to be improving. It appears they had been given a second chance and precious gift, although he’s not out of the woods yet.

Shortly after I read her post I went out for my long run. I prayed for her and her family. I also prayed for my own family and for myself, and my friends and other people who touch my life every day.

Hearing about her experience jolted me. I don’t mean that in a way to offer her and anyone else pity so we can feel better about ourselves and circumstances. No one deserves or wants that.

Rather it reminded that we walk this earth together with common threads of experiences like one giant tapestry of humanity — and to offer one another a shoulder and strength when we can, and to not lose sight of our humility. 

Love, compassion, hope, courage and understanding — these are the seeds of the best within us, I believe. That’s what my friend and her family could use right now.

I ran yesterday thinking about her, not caring about my pace, training or it being the perfect workout, but staying in the present moment, feeling the sunshine on my face, my legs moving, a cleansing sweat.

I ran as if each step I took was a second chance, for my friend and her family, for myself, for anyone else reading this right now who could use it, too.

I hope my prayers get answered, and I will keep moving and running forward as if they already are.

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Aging is inevitable, but growing old is a choice. Lace up your shoes, and let’s go!

Mileage yesterday: 16; Denver to Boston miles logged: 1,298; Miles left to go: 472.
   





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