I watched him cross the finish line, his toothy smile evident from a mile. Clearly he was ecstatic about his run as he plonked himself on one of the volunteers chairs. Sweat trickled down his forehead and his face shone with a joy- a sort of child like glee as he toyed with the medal around his neck like a new found toy. He happily obliged the photographers.
I stood there observing this fascinating sight of unadulterated joy. Something that I lacked recently considering my recent events which was followed with a frown on my face after a momentary gaze at my watch.
As I looked at that old man intently, my eyes fell to his amputed leg much to my chagrin. A nearby volunteer followed my gaze and remarked “Cheerful isn’t he? That’s old John for you. A fast runner he was. Regular in our events. Lost his leg in an accident and his speed but not lost his spirit.”
It was for the umpteenth time running reinstated an important lesson that day- to embrace the finish line more than the finish time. To replace that frown with a smile and be thankful of my ability to run. Running as a sport is a great teacher by itself.
Happy teachers day!