A few weeks back I ran the Victoria 1/2 Marathon. It was a majestic day in Victoria with unseasonably warm temperatures and a festive summer vibe throughout the streets. I had been training for this event for three years and finally the day arrived. I had never run such an event before I had no idea what to expect. Aside from the delirious puking and fainting fears that lingered in the final moments before I fell asleep the night before the race I was fairly confident I could finish the course.
When preparing for such an event I sometimes thought about the finish line. What would I feel at the end?
Who would I see at the finish?
Such images fill the spaces between each strike along the chosen path during early morning training runs.
As it was no one was there to greet me at the finish line.
I sprinted to the end, crossed the line, passed the line of cookies and doughnuts desperately searched for more water and drove home.In decades to come I won’t remember the finish line.
Here’s what I will remember.
My friend Jean.
..cheering me on at the 10km mark
with a smile
and a front page illustration of Justin Trudeau
(I have a slight Justin infatuation- that’s another post)
And here’s the gem.
It doesn’t matter who meets you at the end of an accomplishment.
Who meets you in the middle?
Who makes you laugh so deep you regain perspective?
Who doesn’t care if you ever accomplish anything? But is just there because