Our Own Language

This morning I should have been on a treadmill on in the park. Running my 22 miler, instead I decided to volunteer along the Houston Marathon route for the race today. I realize that it takes a lot of people and a lot of hours to pull these things off and someone out there will be doing it for me next month. So I wanted to give back, fill in, help out.

Funny thing is I got about 7 thanks yous and hi-five from a runner. I watched people cheer for perfect strangers, calling out the names on their bibs like they knew them. Encouraging, making them laugh, helping them forget the pain for one second.

A little girl dressed up for church stood near me holding out a plate of donut holes for the runners. She was precious and I heard many runners remark about her. It was nice to see a family go the extra mile to acknowledge the hard months of training these athletes have been putting in.

I clapped and yelled for about 3 1/2 hours straight. My arms are a little tired, my feet definitely are but my spirits are high as I get ready for the final stretch until Austin.

Tomorrow, I'll be on that treadmill or in the park for my 22 miler and I'll be dreaming in the runner's language.