You are not JUST.

In the grocery store today, I heard the gal behind me in line say - "Just a housekeeper."  I didn't hear anymore of her conversation, but I immediately thought of this story below written in January of this year...

After running today, I couldn’t get my hands on the dictionary fast enough.  The word “Just” surrounded my thoughts with each mile today.  I rushed back to the house to grab the biggest book on the shelf … my dusty dictionary.  To clarify, the adverb Just.  Webster reads - Only or Merely.  Dictionary.com actually quotes, “He was just a clerk until he became ambitious.” 
            After returning from an extended business trip that included a Mini-Marathon, I couldn’t get the word “just” out of my head.  The most frequently asked question during day 1 of my conference was, “Did you run yesterday?”  The infamous follow up question was inevitably, “Did you run the ½ or the full?”  I’m confident that every attendee, including myself, at the Girls on the Run training was asked this set of questions a dozen times. 

I dwell on the word Just based on my answer to the burning question above.  I must have recited the same statement countless times, “Just the half.”  I ran just the half.  I realized each time I spoke these three simple words; I chipped away at the significance of my accomplishment just the day before.  Had I not just run 13.1 amazing miles with 30,000 other runners? 

Luckily a fellow conference attendee and friend pointed out the fact that there was no purpose in “justing” my accomplishment.  Later in the day, this same friend left me a surprise.  A post-it note that simply said … “YOU ARE NOT JUST.  You are awesome and beautiful.”  Thanks Amanda for reminding me that I am not “Just.”  There is nothing wrong with challenging yourself to move beyond society’s definition of just.  I also have to remind myself, there is nothing wrong with loving who you are, what you do, and celebrating just 1 or 13.1 miles.

Thanks to my friend Amanda for cheering for me at the finish line of my Jan. 2011 Mini Marathon in Phoenix AZ, and more importantly for reminding me that I didn't Just run 13.1 miles.  Amanda, you are never Just - I think you are amazing!

Making Memories with Friends & Rain Drops

          This run will go down in the record books.  Not for the most miles, or my fastest pace.  The scrapbook moments are from the raindrops and smiles – too many to count.  Eight other women are most likely giggling right now as I take a moment to jot down how this morning group run was truly one to remember.  
          Certainly, every car that passed each pair of soaking wet shoes must have thought we lost a bet.  No one would claim they wanted to run in the storm we tackled.  We met in the rain, set off on a familiar course, and even decided to take on running down a slick, very steep trail.  The cracks of thunder were noticeably louder than my music at times.  I laughed out loud when ACDC Thunderstruck began to rock at about mile five through my ear-buds.  After countless puddles and six miles, all nine of us eventually met at our finish line.  
          While waiting for our ride “up the hill” – we shared laughs, stories, and even a soaking-wet group photo standing in front of an Emergency Room entrance (no injuries, we just happened to finish our run a block from the hospital).  The best memory of the morning is picturing all of us piled in the back of my husband’s truck.  He offered the cab, but we declined.  For some reason, we all decided to freeze and laugh together, riding like teenagers in the back of his truck back to our cars.  I think the smiles from this run are even better than the dry clothes and hot shower that were waiting for me when I got home. 

Pint-Size Encouragement

Out of the clear blue, my son says to me - "Mom, I think I will run a Marathon with you some day."  These words are worth gold for a proud mother who happens to call herself a runner.  It made me think about the run below ...

I struggled today.  Today was a 10 miler day.  My training schedule and my mind demanded 10 miles, but my body was begging for an easy 6.  A pleasant surprise at mile 6 was delivered to me in a small-sized package … My 8 year old son was anxiously waiting for me with his helmet on his head and CamelBack strapped on (even a Gu pack tucked inside for me).  As my tired legs got closer to my husband’s truck pulled off the side of the road, I could see my son Bryce and his bicycle waiting for me. They remembered my 5 mile out and back chosen path, and thought I might need a pint-sized bubble of encouragement to help me finish the second-half of my run.  Bryce was so thrilled to ride along side of me back home.  I turned off my music and listened to him talk about the smell of the cows and how he would spend his birthday money.  He talked - while I breathed heavy, listened, and smiled.  He felt so proud protecting me by watching for cars and providing water for me when needed.  He pedaled slowly and stayed by my side almost the entire way, until the driveway was in site and he sped up to beat me home.  I would not have had it any other way.  I was so glad he came along!