SATURDAY IN THE PARK
Today found me back on the track, the same track I recently walked for my second 5K this year. Walking still proves to be my biggest challenge and I will not lie, seeing the track again brought some anxiety this morning.
The workout involved pushing a prowler (picture a wooden sled on wheels, with 260lbs of weight inside, plus a 100lb kid for good measure) for 100 yards, then rotating to the next person in the group, then the next, etc. – all athletes in my group, and they began not only pushing it, but doing so while running.
I was quickly dropped and feeling a little out of place and unfit, when I remembered the graffiti on the skater ramp (a butterfly that had reminded me of my lippy sisters being on my journey with me back during the 5K).
I was looking forward to seeing my butterfly, but then I saw something new. Larger than life, expanding across the top of one of the ramps, the word FAITH was spray painted in purple paint. I reminded myself that I was not alone.
Just then I heard my husband/coach from across the track, “we’re coming to you and then it’s your turn.” It didn’t take long for them to reach me and then it was indeed my turn. I lowered myself to the prowler and with my strong body I began pushing, and did so half way around the track.
I finished up and they began rotating their last lap, and I walked proudly for mine. At the end, when they were recuperating, and as I reached them, I told them I was going for one more lap and I was taking the prowler with me.
One of the guys said he was coming, too, if I didn’t mind his company. I told him I wanted the company, just not any help; I wanted to do it on my own, and I did. Not just with his, but with my husband and another man in our group walking beside me and cheering me on every step of the way.