Some run a 100 meter dash, many others run a marathon. Maybe I was meant to run the 100 meter dash — living life fully for a short amount of time. But maybe I don’t want to run the 100 meters; I want to run the marathon with everyone else.
My 100 meters are up and I stumbled from starting too fast. My hands and knees are scraped, I twisted my ankle. I didn’t wear sunblock so my skin is burning. I didn’t eat enough so I’m already without energy. My nose is running constantly. I wasn’t in shape to run the marathon in the first place and I didn’t train for it either. But that doesn’t matter. I still want to run the marathon.
I’m running with my injuries and disabilities. Everyone is fit, or at least not injured, and running with obstacles that come with the journey: uphills and downhills, curves and uneven pavement. Of course, some trip and fall, some give up or walk, and some seem to prance along in their fancy shoes. But in the end, don’t we all struggle to catch our breath as we near the finish line?
I’m 1/3 of the way, I hope. I’m limping and bleeding, coughing and wheezing, my nose is running, my skin is burning, muscles aching; but I’m running alongside others because I want to finish the 26 miles. When those around me look to see how I’m doing, I smile reassuringly. My family has been my crutches, my daughter pushes me along, my friends have provided water, food, towels, and have cheered me on. And I am so thankful.
I wonder though. Can I make it or will I end up with the ones picked up by the truck for those who couldn’t finish or will I end up with the emergency response team?
It’s been a while, friends. I’ve been well for the most part, living my day to day as normally I have ever felt since being diagnosed almost three years ago. There are days when fatigue or emotions get a hold of me and I lay in bed most of the day, but I am inherently an active person and I try to muster up energy and keep myself busy when I’m feeling unlike myself. With the onset of warmer weather and spring blossoms all around, I am feeling well and happy. Each season is such a gift, I am thankful I can enjoy another spring.
Near the end of March, my family and I took a short trip to Solvang, Santa Barbara, and Ojai (pronounced OH-ha-ee) during Elaine’s spring break. We enjoyed another side of California that we had forgotten about–one that is peaceful and green with prairies and cows and horses, so different from the urban beach cities of LA. A taste of bucolic country near the city hustle and bustle of Los Angeles.
We started our trip in Solvang with typical touristy activities: walking around the Danish-inspired town eating Danishes, taking pictures in the giant red shoe and in front of windmills, and my favorite which was visiting a year-round Christmas shop. Because of our four-year-old, we also sought out a park in which she could run around and play. There was a unique park that I found online, but for some reason we couldn’t find its location because it wasn’t where some links were directing us. I initially saw that it was located at Hans Christian Andersen Park, but it turned out to be a skate park surrounded by greenery with tables, benches, and an everyday playground. It was great, but it wasn’t what I was looking for. Later I found out the park was a mile and half away from city-center, so we decided to hang around town for a bit and head to the park as our last stop before heading to Santa Barbara. The park was called Sunny Fields Park. I highly recommend stopping by if you have kids of your own.
“For God so loved the word, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life. For God did not send the Son into the world to judge the world, but that the world might be saved through Him” (John 3:16-17).