The Running Dream

If the mind's not strong, the body acts weak, even if it's not. If the mind says it's too cold or too rainy or too windy to run, the body will be more than happy to agree. If the mind says it would be better to rest or recover or cut practice, the body will be glad to oblige.

I wipe away my tears and nod, because the pain in my leg is nothing compare to the one in my heart.

It's disturbing how fast weeds take root in my garden of worthiness. They're so hard to pull. And grow back so easily.

I realize something. That wasn't a finish line for me...This is my new starting line.

Don't sum up a person based on what you see, or what you don't understand; get to know them

I am a runner. That's what I do. That's who I am. Running is all I know, or want, or care about.

As much as thinking this upsets me, I'm starting to see that I need the merry-go-round much more than it needs me, and in the end my choice is to hop back on or get left in the dust.

It’s amazing how two thin pieces of clothing can hold such deep memories. Laughter, pain, victory, defeat, friendship, fatigue, elation… they’re all there, but only to the person who’s worn the uniform

Either people like running or they don't. Either people get it or they don't. And if they don't, they just think people who like it are crazy. Which is okay. That makes us even.

Don't sum up person based on what you see, or what you don't understand; get to know them.

That's the funny thing about running. The deceptive thing about it. It may seem mindless, but its really mental. If the minds strong, the body acts weak, even if its not.

And of course I felt sorry for you, but …” He stops running. “Didn’t you read what I wrote on your running leg? Does it say, I feel sorry for you? No! It says, You inspire me. I want to be around you because you inspire me! You’re amazing. I think you’re the most …” I stop running, and I look at him. His

It's to have people see her instead of her condition. That's all that anybody with a disability wants. Don't sum up the person based on what you see, or what you don't understand; get to know them.

I am a runner. That’s what I do. That’s who I am. Running is all I know, or want, or care about. It was a race around the soccer field in third grade that swept me into a real love of running. Breathing the sweet smell of spring grass. Sailing over dots of blooming clover. Beating all the boys. After that, I couldn’t stop. I ran everywhere. Raced everyone. I loved the wind across my cheeks, through my hair. Running aired out my soul. It made me feel alive. And now? I’m stuck in this bed, knowing I’ll never run again.

But I've never spoken to a grave before. I don't know what to say. I don't know how. 'I'm so sorry,' I choke out, but that's as far as I get before I start crying. I feel bad that she's gone. I feel overwhelmed. And I feel guilt. Guilt that I've recovered. Guilt that I'm happy. Guilt that I ever thought she was the lucky one.

He’s only going out with you because he feels sorry for you,” she whispers as she invades my personal space on a classroom ramp. “You’re, like, his community service project.

I wipe away my tears and nod, because the pain in my leg is nothing compared to the one in my heart.