The significance of the day is not lost on me: a true independence day. I needed no sparklers, bottle rockets, or star-spangled singing this year. What I did need were my carefully tied shoes and a starter’s pistol. And some endurance and ability that I didn’t know I had.
It was a stormy night not so long ago when I ran for the first time. I will not forget those faltering, panicked steps, as I tasted the edge of running and I struggled to outrun the storm.
Today was a different story. The air was still. And hot. And filled with promise. I knew I could cover the distance. But I wasn’t sure how to do it in a pack, among hundreds of other runners working for a worthy cause. And I wasn’t sure how to quiet the doubting monsters in my head, the voices that said I was an imposter and not a real runner.
The road was long, pavement pounding in the early heat. I struggled to catch my breath. Never did hold on to it. Other runners stopped, or straddled neighborhood sprinklers as they jogged. And the merciless sun beat a fierce cadence as I ran.
But I did it. I ran, so I am a runner. It is simple as that. And I was happy to prove that this morning. Mostly to myself.
It wasn’t easy and it wasn’t pretty but I am sure it is faster than I have ever gone. And as of two months ago, it is something I never in my wildest dreams would have imagined. Not bad for a Sunday morning’s work.
Self-determination, freedom, liberty. I won them all today. And these are a lot more important and a lot longer-lasting than a show of fireworks and a snow cone.
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