Kindness in a Phone Call

The phone rang.

I was busy drying the dinner dishes and lamenting about how my knees ached from my hard five mile run this morning. 

According to my training plan, I should have run nine miles today.  I've been derailed for nearly three weeks with shin splints and am gradually getting back into it...struggling to build back up the mileage and the momentum that I lost along the way....and fearing that three weeks may not be enough time to get ready.

"Hello?," I said.

"I hope I'm not interrupting your dinner or evening with your family.  I was thinking about you and had to call.  I'm experiencing shin splints from the crazy amount of pounding on pavement today on my long walk (she works for a national non-profit) and I'm in pain.  I have no idea how you've been doing it.  But I wanted to let you know that I'm behind you.  You're not just running for you.  You're running for all of us."

After thanking her, I got off the phone and sobbed.

A stupid, dumb, 13.1 mile race.  Why has this become so important to me?  Enough to have me icing my legs four times a day.  Taking ibuprofen with each meal.  Reading everything I can get my hands on about form, cadence, shoes, injury remedies and running, in general. 

It's important, I think, because in some tangible way, it represents me.  The re-birthing of me.  Since I started this process, I've lost 22 pounds, gained strength, endurance, a lot of heart ache, and confidence.

The running I do is for me.  It's so that I can be a better wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend...so that I can feel me again.  The miles, the pain, the endorphins, the exhilaration, the hurt, the hope...it's mine.  And I want so bad to finish this first big race.

So thank you, friend for the phone call.  Thank you for actually picking up the phone, dialing my number, and saying the words.  You have no idea how much they mean.  Your call demonstrated how we should never underestimate the power of reaching out.  We need each other more than we know.

The Human 'Race'

The other day, my six-year old son, Sam asked, "Mama, why does everything cost money?"

I immediately felt guilty imagining that we'd overemphasized the cost of things and worried that he may be feeling anxiety about money. 

His question got me thinking though, "What's free in life?"  In a world filled with zero percent, no interest financing for a bazillion months, three quick/easy installments of $19.99 and over-the-top consumerism...what do we value?

It's interesting that we're called the human race.  The natural inclination of all people seems to be to gravitate toward more, better, bigger, now.  We're racing toward the shiniest, newest invention that will make our lives easier, smoother, more convenient.  And as such, we'll be more creative, interesting, prettier people.  And, yet we all know that the feeling is fleeting and we're on to the next version of the iPhone.

So, what's free?  What's enduring?  What's sustaining?  In our house...free is love and faith. 

Maybe, by our very make-up, we'll always be inclined to race toward something, but hopefully, at the end of the day, we'll pick each other instead of an iPad.