Inspiration

Inspiration is a funny thing. Ever since I started running, I've had people tell me, "Oh, you've inspired me. I've signed up for (insert seemingly difficult race here) and now I'm so excited!"

Which is so awesome. And at first, I was shy and would mumble my appreciation. But the more I think about it. The more I wonder. Am I truly such an inspiration, or do they just figure, "Well, shoot! If she can do it, then I'm out of excuses!"?

Let's look at some examples of inspiration. The little kid with a pediatric condition that bravely endures their treatment without complaining. Inspiring. The soldiers overseas fighting for our freedom. Inspiring. The dad that pushes his son's wheelchair so he can participate in races. Inspiring.

Let's look at me. I'm a mom that hits the sidewalks to get some time to myself and alleviate stress. I participate in half marathons in order to keep myself motivated and push my limits. I have set personal records only for myself and won only finisher medals. Pretty average.

And yet, people continue to say I inspire them.

But that's not why I run. I will continue to mumble my appreciation and offer any tips and suggestions they'd like to hear. But I'm out there for me (and the well-being of my children). But maybe, at the start of every difficult, long run and the bottom of every long hill, those powerful words will ring in my ears and give me the extra strength I need to dig deep and get my larger-than-normal ego going!