Bolder Boulder

Yesterday, in Boulder, Colorado, where I live and train with a running community, there was a 10K race, that is, 6.2 miles, at 5000 foot altitude, with hills.  50,000 people ran it from all over the area.  I did not run.  I am washed up, not physically.  I am not injured.  I simply embarrass myself when I try to race.  It is pitiful.  But instead of feeling sorry or pitying myself, I accept reality, and decide to do something positive with it.  I went to the race to be of service.  I was part of a team of volunteers that worked the last mile, crowd control, car traffic, helping the hobbled runner, encouraging runners for the last mile, picking up trash, and so on.  Being of service gets me out of myself.  Plus, I like the last mile because I get to see all the pain of the runners going up the long incline, and feel better that it is not me.  Even when I used to race, I hated the last mile.  I try to lie, and yell to people, "You look good.  Keep it up."  In fact they look terrible.  So if you are washed up in one area, try being of service for others.  A race requires more than the runners to make it a success.  In life we can all participate in one way or another.