I was trying to explain to someone the other day how my tattoos are a part of me and how once Ive gotten each one, I feel like they’ve always been a part of me and belong on me. All my ink is meaningful and ties into my running journey.
The first one is a pair of sneakers at rest with music notes floating out of them. They are slightly askew, having just been kicked off after a run.
The verse at the top of my back, my life verse, means that although Ive not yet arrived, I press on. That’s every race, and every challenge, every day.
My latest one means two different things to me. Its not just what Texas told Mexico, and the Spartans told the Persians – it is a statement of defiance – To one party it says, I’d rather die than follow your instructions. To another party, it means Ive got your back – I’ll go down fighting with you, till the death. Those 300 soldiers knew they had no chance, but they stood with their king and went down fighting. Its my pact with my eldest son (and can be applied to his brother, or my husband).
Im not sure where the finish line ultimately is for me – if and when I’ll feel like Ive done all I want to discover Im capable of doing out on the trail, but my artwork is part of the story, just like the scars, inside and out.
Running to me is not a 5k or a road race or some stupid shiny medal. Running is a trail, it is a mountain, it is the dark, and the smoldering heat and the bitter raining cold. Running is the challenge, the fresh air, the nature, the rolling river – it is falling on rocks, wiping off the blood and drinking out of puddles. Running is the wonderful people I meet every time, some who I have grown to know and love, some I never see after the race – It is the perfect metaphor for my life.
We’ll see how I feel in a few weeks when my spring racing season (that I didn’t really train for – at least not in terms of running) is over. For now, Im not done yet.
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