FORE!

For about 5 weeks I have started to acquire a small collection of golf balls.  “Why in THE heck are you telling the three of us this” you ask?  This is why- I run a route from my house that I have run for years; it takes me through a golf course and over to a beautiful subdivision that has gorgeous homes, deer, a lake, a playground, geese, beautiful landscaping and-without fail for the last 5 weeks-the path I take to get to the beautiful subdivision has yielded these golf balls to me.  At least I ‘believe’ they are for me.

 

I have run this route for years, as part of my “long” run.  I have never much paid attention to the ‘ground’ or if I did, and happened to see a golf ball, I would just run by it and say, “well oops-someone made a goof with their driver or putter-FORE!” And keep running… until about 5 weeks ago.  You see, this is the heart of triathlon season; my friends and teammates are training and training hard for whatever their “A” race may be; whatever their “goal distance” race may be; or, whatever “this is my first half Ironman” race may be.  I have one friend, the impending Ironman Augusta 70.3 race (this coming September), will be her first half Ironman (Go MD!).  I have done that race twice; and was registered to participate this year-but I bought insurance when I registered for reasons I think all three of you know.

 

“Becky, you are rambling, can you get to your point, please”-you all say.  I am on a different “journey” this triathlon season; I am a Sherpa-helping and aiding my husband in the race of his lifetime.  It closely mimics triathlon in some ways; it starts out open ended-not quite sure how the ‘day’ is going to go, you have a ‘plan’ and a ‘race strategy’ and then you get kicked in the water; next thing you know you have a flat tire on the bike course; next thing you know you are out of fuel on the run, you have “bonked” and “hit the wall” and well, it isn’t going to be the race you had hoped for.

 

Because I don’t have my Razorback Turtle riding spouse and his friend boys to push me hard on the bike this year; because my journey is different this “season” than in years prior; because I choose to view this journey as something that we will persevere no matter what we happen to face with it that comes along – I choose to TRY to make the best out of what I can. I can’t run with my friends anymore; I can’t ride with my peoples; I can’t race much this year but I HAD to shift my focus.  I am not the one that is wheelchair bound, I am not the one who can’t move when they sleep, I am not the one who almost can’t wash their hair anymore, I am not the one that has to think constantly about breathing-just to be able to breathe. I am blessed, I remain grateful and I try to remain thoughtful of the different ‘race’ that Elkstone is enduring.  So, I saw a golf ball on my run 5 weeks ago, picked it up and brought it home to him and told him I had him something and I just KNEW he would love it.  He just looked at me and said, “um, why did you take a golf ball from the course and run with it all the way home?”  I declared, “well, I thought you would like it; I thought of you.”  And he said well thank you, but it is just a golf ball you know.  Materialistically, yes-it is.  Figuratively, when I picked up a bright yellow one on my solo 7-mile run this morning I thought, “if John doesn’t want it-and it IS just a golf ball-I will take it and add to my collection.”  As I journeyed home, about one mile after picking up the fluorescent golf ball, I thought “isn’t that something.  They were just ordinary golf balls until today, around mile 6 of my run.  There they lay, out of bounds, not in the ‘game’ that they want to be in or belong in. Hmmm…”

 

Do you suppose that the ousted golf balls should remain on the grounds close to the road so a car demolish them and render them no longer playable or do you suppose you could pick it up, take it with you, and allow it to start another journey – no telling where the golf ball’s journey will take it?

 

I chose to pick up the golf ball(s).  I choose to think that maybe, just maybe, that golf ball I grabbed and brought home with me today was just not where it belonged; it needed to be begun on a new journey.  I suppose that maybe Becky, since she can’t be on the journey she thought she would be on and ever so clearly is on the journey that HE (the man up above) wants her on, needed to be grabbed and started on a new journey?  Could you imagine what would happen if she was left on the side of the road for to possibly become no longer playable?  No; it’s GAME ON PEOPLES! #Grateful #Blessed #ToHimGoesTheGlory @ALSSucksImagennnnnnn.jpg

 

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