One Foot in Front of the Other.

This morning, Davis's (the 6 year old I'm running in honor of for Team in Training) mom, Kenya, sent out a Caringbridge update. Though there wasn't anything overly sad about this particular email, I found myself crying while I was reading it. Kenya doesn't write for pity by any means. But I was overwhelmed by emotion, by thinking about this child fighting cancer, and about his mom, fighting for everything else.

So many of you have kindly told me how much you've enjoyed reading the blog, how you've been inspired to run...or at least inspired to think about running, and that's something too. And though I certainly don't think of myself as inspirational(cue Wind Beneath my Wings), I'm happy that's one of the outcomes of this writing and training.

What's really inspiring is reading Kenya's updates. Her unfailing honesty about the difficulties of having a child with leukemia, her celebration of the small victories, her ability to laugh when what she probably just wants to do is cry, her trusting the doctors and nurses, her finding time to work, finding time for her daughter Grace, finding time for friends, her giving the man at Toys-r-us who's griping about the long line a dose of perspective soon after Davis's diagnosis, her faith, her strength, her humor, her keeping it all in the road for Davis and her family--that's inspiring. I'm sure some days she's just putting one foot in front of the other, willing herself to keep moving, to stay positive for Davis.

So when I was slogging through 10 miles yesterday, thinking about Kenya and Davis made putting one foot in front of the other seem like the very least that I could do.