I have a lot of friends. And a lot of those friends? They're runners. Ironically enough, most of my very attractive, very fit friends are runners. If they weren't my friends, I'd most likely be jealous of them and their taut, thin thighs, and sometimes I'd say things about them like, "ooooh I'm so pissed...my size 2 jeans were tight today..FML" all said in a snarky whine.
But the reality is, these women are amazing. I see some of them running, some days, in the rain. On icy sidewalks. In the snow. At the ass-crack of dawn. These women walk out of their front doors, stretch a little, and then take off running.
And they always come home safe and sound, right? Ready to tackle the day....get the kids up, get them fed, off to school. Some of these women go to work, put in their 8 or 9 or 10 hours and then come home and work some more. Some volunteer at school; they teach kids to read, kids who don't have a single adult in their life who will sit down and look a a book with them. They organize food drives, they attend PTO meetings, they help clean out the puppy cages at the Humane Society, take care of their parents, etc.
There was one woman, a woman in Sidney, Montana, who didn't come home from her run. She left her house, and about one mile into her run, she disappeared. All that was left was a shoe. A single shoe.
She was a wife. A mom. A cousin. A friend. A teacher. And now she's gone.
I'd like you to read her story, here: Shut Up + Run
And on February 11th, I'd like you to run or walk or waddle along with me.
It's the least we can do.