The World Through My Shoes is my look at living this incredible gift God has given us. As a busy wife, mother and daughter I relish the alone time I receive on my early morning runs. It is in the stillness of those predawn mornings where I often am inspired. Thank you for taking the time to read my words.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011


As of late, everywhere I look I see inspiration.  And I need it.  Just as my motivation wanes, God places these little sparks of inspiration to get me moving.

Yesterday morning my run had not gone particularly well, it wasn't bad mind you, it was just a struggle.  A few hours later, as I was driving to work, I saw a woman large in stature running down the road I was travelling.  This was not a long and flat road, rather it was extremely hilly.  Determination was etched on her face as she successfully tackled each hill.  I wondered what her story was.  What motivated her to change her lifestyle?  What brought her to the point to lace up a pair of running shoes?  How much weight had she lost already?

Clearly, the run was not easy.  But it didn't stop her.  At some point in her life she realized the pain of regret hurts more than the physical pain of a tough run.  Her strength inspired me and she has no idea.  She was simply running.

Standing in line at Starbucks today, indulging in my standard double tall non-fat latte, a woman with 3 active girls placed her order after me.  Obviously a regular to the baristas at the counter as they greeted her by name.  I was stepping to the side when she exclaimed, "It's been 18 days since my last cigarette!", her smile exploding on her face.  Turning to face her I said, "Congratulations!".

"Thanks!  I feel really good about it!  Really, really good."

"That's a big accomplishment, you should feel good about it."

She then explained to me, a complete stranger, about her struggle and how she has managed to quit the addiction on her own.  I look at the children, acting as children do, around her.  She easily could have used their high energy as an excuse to give herself a break and light up a cigarette.  But she didn't.  She had reached a point that said 'I want better'.

Walking back to my car, I thought of her smile.  There was so much joy in that smile, a joy that can not be called up on demand.  It is a joy that only comes from pride found through personal strength.  Not until she wanted better and started the tough journey of quitting her addiction could she find a strength she didn't know she had.  No one could quit for her; she had to do it.  And with each passing day she got stronger and learned that what she is capable of is greater than what she had known.  She rediscovered herself.

And that, my friends, is contagious.

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