Run Your Own Race

I love the fact that running is a microcosm of this thing we call life. The crowd at any Saturday morning race offers a cross section of humanity. There are short runners, tall runners, thin runners and portly ones. Each person runs for their own reason, each has their own goals, each runs their own race.

I ran my last marathon with a group of friends from church -- two men and two women. Of the four people in our group, I was the shortest (by several inches), the youngest (not by much) and the slowest (by a lot). Even though I knew I could not maintain the same pace as my friends, there was no shame in the race I was going to run. It was my race. I ran with my music, at my speed to attain my goals.

We started the race together, but as each person set their own pace, we quickly separated. While each of us covered the same 26 miles, we each ran very different races. However, when we crossed the finish line and traded tales of our day's events, we were united by the finisher's medal we wore around our necks.

I always tell people, I am "every runner." I am not particularly fast, I will probably never win a big race and no matter how much I run I still can't get rid of the fat dimples on my rear-end -- but when I am out there running, It is on my terms...it is my own race.