I had the pleasure of staffing an information booth at the PDX City Parks 5K Run at Gabriel Park in Portland, OR this last weekend. And, I do mean it was a pleasure. This was a great place to be reminded of who I am and why I have the goals I do.
First, let me say that I am in awe of folks who dare to participate in life at this level. Other than running as a child, I have never had an urge to use running as a sport for the sake of just that... running. When I was a child, I loved running bases and I adored playing Hide and Go Seek, Tag, and other playground games; and of course, as I got older, there was the Catch the Toddler game that every parent has been forced to play. You know the one... as they dash for streets and ponds and other hideous life defying challenges, you run as fast as you can to try to catch them. Not nearly as fun as Tag, but it does get your heart pumping at cardio level.
The folks who attended the 5K Run at Gabriel Park all had one thing in common... they wanted to be there, they wanted to run, and they wanted to cross the finish line. I did not spot a single person there that day who looked as if they had been forced to attend the event; instead they appeared cheerful and ready.
The other thing I noticed was the variety of shapes and sizes and age groups present. From children to adults, there were tall people and short people; small people and large people; thin people and obese people. There were young folks and old folks, and given that the entry fee was a mere $5 bucks, I would imagine that the income levels were just as diverse, because it was affordable.
The courage on display, while not flaunted, was, nevertheless, remarkable. I could barely walk while weighing 316 lbs, yet, here were, not one or two, but, many obese people, elderly people, and unfit people. There were people of varying abilities throughout the spectrum of human experience. It certainly fortified my trust and belief in the "against all odds" paradigm.
Extreme acts of courage run rampant throughout our society, yet we often do not stop and observe the immense spirit it sometimes takes to just be who we are. Take Caitlyn Jenner, who recently was the recipient of the prestigious Arthur Ashe Courage award at this year's ESPY (Excellence in Sports Performance Yearly) ceremony. This award is intended to honor "people whose contributions transcend sports through courageous action." ESPN released a statement last month, saying, "This year, we are proud to honor Caitlyn Jenner embracing her identity and doing so in a public way to help move forward a constructive dialogue about progress and acceptance."
FYI, in case my readers live inside a rolled up sock without access to gossip or news from the outside world, Caitlyn Jenner was once Bruce Jenner, the former Olympic Champion track and field athlete. She is a lovely woman, who has not only won the Olympic Gold Medal (the highest award given to athlete's for their prowess on the field), but has now also been honored with the highest sports award for courage.
To me, the fact that Caitlyn Jenner has fully shared herself with the world, despite criticism and controversy, is a stunning act of courage. She has given yet another strong voice to the transgender community, opening another opportunity for understanding and the elimination of discrimination. I will always love her for that.
Yet, for her, the act of speaking publicly while reading from a teleprompter at the ESPY awards took a dual amount of courage; one, because of her fear around her childhood dyslexia, and two, because she is not yet happy with the pitch of her voice and she wanted people to hear what she had to say, rather than observing the pitch of her voice. Our own inner demons are probably the worst, most poisonous voices we will ever hear.
Like Caitlyn, the obese men and women who showed up to run at the 5K event, regardless of what others might think of them; regardless of what they might look like in others eyes; and regardless of the pain they might feel in their joints, both before and after the event; these people are my heroes. They are willing to cut through their own fears to live life to its fullest, and by doing so, they both impress and enable each of us to do the same.
First, let me say that I am in awe of folks who dare to participate in life at this level. Other than running as a child, I have never had an urge to use running as a sport for the sake of just that... running. When I was a child, I loved running bases and I adored playing Hide and Go Seek, Tag, and other playground games; and of course, as I got older, there was the Catch the Toddler game that every parent has been forced to play. You know the one... as they dash for streets and ponds and other hideous life defying challenges, you run as fast as you can to try to catch them. Not nearly as fun as Tag, but it does get your heart pumping at cardio level.
The folks who attended the 5K Run at Gabriel Park all had one thing in common... they wanted to be there, they wanted to run, and they wanted to cross the finish line. I did not spot a single person there that day who looked as if they had been forced to attend the event; instead they appeared cheerful and ready.
The other thing I noticed was the variety of shapes and sizes and age groups present. From children to adults, there were tall people and short people; small people and large people; thin people and obese people. There were young folks and old folks, and given that the entry fee was a mere $5 bucks, I would imagine that the income levels were just as diverse, because it was affordable.
The courage on display, while not flaunted, was, nevertheless, remarkable. I could barely walk while weighing 316 lbs, yet, here were, not one or two, but, many obese people, elderly people, and unfit people. There were people of varying abilities throughout the spectrum of human experience. It certainly fortified my trust and belief in the "against all odds" paradigm.
Extreme acts of courage run rampant throughout our society, yet we often do not stop and observe the immense spirit it sometimes takes to just be who we are. Take Caitlyn Jenner, who recently was the recipient of the prestigious Arthur Ashe Courage award at this year's ESPY (Excellence in Sports Performance Yearly) ceremony. This award is intended to honor "people whose contributions transcend sports through courageous action." ESPN released a statement last month, saying, "This year, we are proud to honor Caitlyn Jenner embracing her identity and doing so in a public way to help move forward a constructive dialogue about progress and acceptance."
FYI, in case my readers live inside a rolled up sock without access to gossip or news from the outside world, Caitlyn Jenner was once Bruce Jenner, the former Olympic Champion track and field athlete. She is a lovely woman, who has not only won the Olympic Gold Medal (the highest award given to athlete's for their prowess on the field), but has now also been honored with the highest sports award for courage.
To me, the fact that Caitlyn Jenner has fully shared herself with the world, despite criticism and controversy, is a stunning act of courage. She has given yet another strong voice to the transgender community, opening another opportunity for understanding and the elimination of discrimination. I will always love her for that.
Yet, for her, the act of speaking publicly while reading from a teleprompter at the ESPY awards took a dual amount of courage; one, because of her fear around her childhood dyslexia, and two, because she is not yet happy with the pitch of her voice and she wanted people to hear what she had to say, rather than observing the pitch of her voice. Our own inner demons are probably the worst, most poisonous voices we will ever hear.
Like Caitlyn, the obese men and women who showed up to run at the 5K event, regardless of what others might think of them; regardless of what they might look like in others eyes; and regardless of the pain they might feel in their joints, both before and after the event; these people are my heroes. They are willing to cut through their own fears to live life to its fullest, and by doing so, they both impress and enable each of us to do the same.
And you my beloved sister, are my hero....
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