Running the Race
Today may be one of my favorite days of the year. It's race day in our city. Thousands of people participate in the 10K, Half Marathon, or Marathon events. They've been training for weeks--I've seen them running in our parks and neighborhoods. The race route runs directly behind our house, right through our neighborhood. The whole city seems to come alive on race day.
Our neighborhood has always come out en force to celebrate and cheer the racers on. We set up tents, offer drinks, hand out leis, and cheer for all we're worth. The kids play with their friends, make signs, and hand out high-fives. It's a day of community.
Each racer who passes us has a story. Some are running this race as a victory lap, following a much bigger race, a battle. I know because I see it on their shirts: "Cancer Survivor," "I Run for Life," "MS Foundation," and countless others. I see them, heads still hairless after the chemotherapy, willfully putting one foot in front of the other. I see them in wheelchairs, leading blind friends, struggling to run through the pain of injuries. For many, finishing the race is a triumph. For some, just participating in it is a victory.
And we stand by--for four hours, today--and cheer for all we're worth. We clap, and yell, and offer handshakes. We tell them we're so proud of them. We smile and will them forward with our words. We run alongside them for a short while, and we tell them they can do this. We celebrate their success, and spur them on to the finish line.
This is my favorite day of the year because this is the day we get it right. We don't ask where they're coming from, where they stand on politics and religion and gluten; we just cheer. We recognize they're running the race of their lifetime, and they're tired. We acknowledge that what they need most is the encouragement to finish strong. We stand by and cheer and clap until our hands are bruised.
This is the day we get it right. And there's nothing more beautiful in the world.
Our neighborhood has always come out en force to celebrate and cheer the racers on. We set up tents, offer drinks, hand out leis, and cheer for all we're worth. The kids play with their friends, make signs, and hand out high-fives. It's a day of community.
Each racer who passes us has a story. Some are running this race as a victory lap, following a much bigger race, a battle. I know because I see it on their shirts: "Cancer Survivor," "I Run for Life," "MS Foundation," and countless others. I see them, heads still hairless after the chemotherapy, willfully putting one foot in front of the other. I see them in wheelchairs, leading blind friends, struggling to run through the pain of injuries. For many, finishing the race is a triumph. For some, just participating in it is a victory.
And we stand by--for four hours, today--and cheer for all we're worth. We clap, and yell, and offer handshakes. We tell them we're so proud of them. We smile and will them forward with our words. We run alongside them for a short while, and we tell them they can do this. We celebrate their success, and spur them on to the finish line.
This is my favorite day of the year because this is the day we get it right. We don't ask where they're coming from, where they stand on politics and religion and gluten; we just cheer. We recognize they're running the race of their lifetime, and they're tired. We acknowledge that what they need most is the encouragement to finish strong. We stand by and cheer and clap until our hands are bruised.
This is the day we get it right. And there's nothing more beautiful in the world.
