When I woke up this morning I did NOT want to run. It’s been forever since I did a race (since last October, to be exact) and my stomach was in complete knots. But then my awesome sister-in-law picked me up, and then we went to pick up my other awesome sister-in-law, and at that point I was starting to get excited instead of nervous. We joked about the pre-race poops, and everything felt back to normal.
So picture me on this run. It’s the 4th of July. It’s getting muggier by the minute. I’m on mile 4-ish of a 5-mile run, and I see some teenage jerkface who was helping out with the race start to PICK UP THE FREAKIN’ CONES from the street. Okay, fine, so I was like 3rd or 4th from last place. I never claimed to be The Flash over here. But COME ON, dude. We were STILL RUNNING.
There seriously couldn’t have been anything more discouraging to me at that point. Tears welled up in my eyes. I gave a very stern mom look to the guy doing it, plus the driver (for good measure). And then I cranked up my tunes and I RAN.
Because guess what? People suck sometimes. People who are just trying to do their job can go right ahead and you’ll feel like they’re stomping all over you. It’s unfortunate, but it’s true. You have the CHOICE to either let their actions affect you, or to go on your merry way and keep. on. running.
I chose to run. In that moment, I chose to picture my sweet husband and two little kiddos who were waiting for me at that finish line.
What will YOU choose?
One thought on “Put down the freakin’ cones, dude.”
You go girl! ❤️🎉