Doing what you can instead of bemoaning what you can’t

On Dec. 1, 2018, I jogged/walked 13.1 miles at the St. Jude Marathon fund-raising event in Memphis. I recorded this on Riverside Drive as I was approaching mile marker 4. I had never done a half-marathon, not even a 5K, but I’d always been a fitness walker, and completing the half-marathon had been on my bucket list since I was in my forties.

I finally did it at 62. I finished the 13.1 miles in three hours and 17 minutes.

26,000 people participated in this one event, people of all ages. And most of them were not marathon runners. Most were like me, jogging a bit then walking a bit. Some walked the entire half-marathon. I passed a man wearing a neon yellow shirt reading “Blind Runner.” He was tethered to another man, also in a neon shirt, and he was walking instead of running, but he was doing it.

Everyone that knows me knows that the event was the highlight of my 2018, even though I also retired that year. There are many reasons for my feelings, but that is not the purpose of today’s blog.

The point today is to look for what you can do instead of dwelling on what you can’t, then do it.

We are often told we can do anything we set our minds to do, but that’s not entirely accurate. That blind man couldn’t run/walk the race without help, and I doubt he was able to actually run as there were occasional obstacles on the street that could have tripped him. But he was able to walk. He was doing what he could.

I know nothing about the gentleman, but I do know there are countless things he can’t do. He can’t read a normal book or watch TV. He can’t drive a car and likely can’t cook his own meals. But he can listen to audio books, listen to television programs, ride in a car driven by someone else, and maybe use a microwave.

And, with help, he was able to raise money for kids fighting cancer. He was a part of something that was bigger than himself. I imagine he felt even better than I did when he crossed that finish line.

That man has no idea what an inspiration he was to me. I have no idea what caused his blindness. Maybe he had cancer himself that caused him to lose his sight, and he wanted to do something to help others. Maybe he’s been blind from birth or had a congenital defect that took his sight. Whatever the cause, he wasn’t allowing it to stop him from doing what he could do.

A lesson for all of us, I think. Life is going to throw us some curve balls, and adversity will strike at some point. Illness and death are a part of life, but until we are faced with the inevitable, we can make the most of our lives with the abilities we have now.

Like the blind runner, I had help achieving my goal. My family, especially my daughter-in-law, were of great help and support. Generous contributors gave money to my fund-raising campaign. At every mile marker, employees of Memphis businesses were holding cups of water and Gatorade to keep us hydrated as we plugged along. There were residents cheering us along, musicians playing as we ran/walked by, and perhaps the most touching, St. Jude employees and patients thanking us as we ran across a small part of the St. Jude campus

So the next time you’re feeling discouraged about what you can’t do, think of the blind runner. He did what he could. You can too.