A Sprint vs Marathon

I started running track in 7th grade, it came very easy for me, and when the 400 yd race progressed, I could look at the end of the race, and KNOW I would make it. It is such a short distance, it is strenuous to run a fast pace, but so encouraging to see the end of the race just yards ahead of you.

 I started training for Cross Country in High School. That was a new ball of wax!!

 That took patience, endurance, and perseverance. IT TOOK so much MORE TRAINING, it did not come natural for me. Loving and serving comes natural for me. Seeing the needs of another, and knowing how I can help is a gift. Sometimes it is hard, but the end is in sight, the task will come to an end, and the training is minimal.

 Fundraising for Peter started out as a 400 yd dash, I could SEE the end, and I KNOW it will be met. But I have found that it is MUCH more like a Marathon, and that is where I am right now.

 I have hit a runners wall. I do not regret accepting the call to LOVE and SERVE my son Peter. but to be perfectly honest, Raising funds WHILE rising SONS is A HUGE commitment! We have had SO MANY helpers, and SO MANY people have sacrificed, I am truly humbled and blessed.

Rather than feeling like they are my cheerleaders, I feel like they are my 400 yd dash relay team. We each do a SPRINT for as LONG as we can, then gracefully pass the baton and the next, refreshed runner takes the baton and runs for their portion. The only difference is..... we are all sprinting at the same time!!

 Susana, Erin, Candace, Lia, Sasha, Alice, Sherri, Angel,Sean, Savannah,Laraine, Deborah, Susannah, Ruth, Sheli, Mindy, Barry, Rebecca, Taft, Heather, and SOOO MANY OTHERS!

I wish I could name you all, I am so humbled by your generous, selfless acts of kindness I hope someone along your path will provide as much support and love.

as you have shown me! Pay it Forward. As the marathon continues, I pray for ongoing support, and understanding, I may have volunteered for this race, but that does not mean I can run it all alone. Just as if I had given birth to a new son, I am exhausted, taxed, worn out, and need a break. Thank you for those helpers who whisk my kids away so I can rest, thank you to those who dry my laundry, and deliver my kids places, and do not judge me for not being able to do it all alone. Thank you to my village for supporters.