The hustle and serious bustle of holiday season has swept me away this morning. There is a picture of a dog; bug-eyed, reindeer antlers strapped to her head, crazed, eye twitching. The caption reads something like, “I am NOT stressed. I GOT this.” That is truly what I feel this morning.
I ran my very first 5K this weekend. Being able to accomplish a goal and simply finish feels amazing. Weather could not have been any better for a Saturday in December. I ran alongside Delaney who has been training with a group of girls at school. Tons of elementary age children and their running buddies flooded the starting line Saturday morning. We joined the last group to start the race. I glanced around measuring myself up to the other participants… we just couldn’t be last. Delaney would be mortified if she had to drag me over the finish line. Gun sounded and we were off! A friend of Delaney’s running close by clasped hands with her father. Happy to have a distraction from the physical act of running, I kept my eye on them… holding hands. A sweet gesture but how long could that last while running?
The girl and her father setting a pace, ran on ahead. After the first mile I lost sight of them with other things on my mind (like breathing). On we ran. Delaney did fantastic! We had so much fun chatting here and there, pulling each other through. Her training paid off and the race was actually enjoyable.
We looped around coming to the last mile on the same stretch of straight road. I could see the young girl and her dad, still holding hands. From where I was running I could not see, but I bet they crossed that finish line – holding hands.
Delaney said, “Don’t say anything, she might get embarrassed.” Huh, 2500 people ran the race. This 11-year-old girl did not seem a bit embarrassed or shamed as she cruised by many of them holding her father’s hand.
Now, when I move, I need space. Buddy feels the wrath of my “atomic elbows” if he snuggles in a little too close. Lexi has received many accidental head blows from flailing arms; she is unfortunately the perfect height. Holding hands is NOT an option with me. Especially when running… or talking. Buddy can barely get a quick hug these days let alone a handhold. Squeezing too many to do’s into ONLY TEN DAYS LEFT! THIS IS ACTUALLY HOW I FEEL LIKE WRITING TODAY. LOUD. AND. CLEAR. (Eye twitch)
Jesus Christ was born after 400 years of Silence. Why is it that when it comes to His birthday season the volume increases by 400 times? I do believe there is a holy anticipation and good wrapped into this season. That volume however tends to loose decibels during the months of November and December in the Blake home. The I want, I need, can I haves seem to consume my attention leaving me feeling, well, STRESSED.
The vision of this young girl and her father, completing a race, hands clasped, never alone, not left behind, not missing a beat, together; eases my heart rate today. And reminds me perhaps I don’t need to tear my hand away, moving as fast as I can to GET THINGS DONE or PICK UP ONE MORE GIFT or BE EARLY FOR ONCE. I am going to keep the picture of a child holding the hand of a Father, at the forefront of my mind, as it was on race day – for me to follow.
Here is my gorgeous girl running like the champion she truly is!