August 19, 2022 – update
It seemed like such a good idea 46 years ago, on my 30th birthday. Now on the eve of my 76th birthday, dare I wonder: What was I thinking?
On August 20, 1976, the day I turned 30, I awoke with a brilliant idea. Being fit, energetic, and committed to a daily running routine at the time, I began what would become my first annual celebratory Birthday Run.
Three miles. One-tenth mile for each year.
"Well that was fun!" I panted as the pedometer reached 3 miles. "Next year I'll add another tenth-mile! How hard could it be?"
So, the morning of my 31st birthday, I laced up my trusty Nikes and breezed through the 3.1-miles happily, up and down the hills of Ruston, Louisiana.
Each August 20th thereafter, no matter where I was, I continued the tradition, adding a tenth mile.
Those next three decades whizzed by.
Gradually, as my age increased, my pace decreased. Alas, the Birthday Run in my 30's, became a Birthday Jog in my 40s, and eventually, in my 50s, a Birthday Walk.
Three were … um … memorable:
"I can do this," I mused. "I'll be back in time for our day of sightseeing." Tiptoeing out the hotel room at dawn, I began my trek. After 2 miles, I saw a sign: Big Danube.
"Hey, I'll just take a teensy detour, pop over and take a peek."
So, a few jigs-and-jags, over-the-bridges-and-through-the-woods later, nothing looked familiar. I seemed to be a wee bit off-course. Okay, so I was totally, utterly, hopelessly lost.
Houston, we have a problem.
Foolishly, I had taken off empty-handed: no map, no hotel name, no contact information, no money, food or water. And cell phones? Yet a thing of the future. Panic set in.
About that time, a stranger approached me for directions, pointing and babbling in some language. Me? Directions? I laughed. Then I cried. By now it was mid-morning and I knew everyone would be up and worried about me. They were. Search teams had gone out, two by two.
As the hours passed, so did my hope of ever seeing my loved ones again. I continued to wander, and pray. "Lord, You know where I am. You know where they are. Please bring us together."
Eventually, He did. Miraculous. Everyone hugged. I apologized profusely. It turned out to be a memorable birthday and by God’s grace, I lived to see my 50th the following year.
The good news is, I’ve carefully banked the extra 4.5 miles I walked that day to withdraw on my 90th, when I venture out on my 9-mile birthday crawl. Or roll. Or scoot.
Or maybe they'll come in handy tomorrow on my 7.6 mile Birthday Stroll, we'll see. Stay tuned.
In the meantime, I am profoundly aware of what a blessing it is to be able to do such a thing. My heart aches for those dear ones who struggle to breathe . . . or move . . . or even dream of a chance for a birthday stroll.
Every breath we take, every move we make, every sunrise we see, every birthday we celebrate, are gifts from God. With every candle we blow out, may we be ever more mindful, and grateful, for these gifts, and to pray for those whose journeys have taken them through deeper valleys and harder places.
Lord, may we who enjoy Your gifts of good health, mobility, and abundant provisions, to any degree, say thank You! Let us never take them for granted--or presume upon our tomorrows. We are so grateful. We lift up those today who would love to take a birthday stroll tomorrow, but for whatever reason can't. Give them an extra measure of Your grace today. Your healing. Your bountiful blessings. Your help, and Your hope. Let them feel Your pleasure, and Your presence, in all they do. Your name be praised, Amen.
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