This white girl has finally found her soul

“The wheel is turning and you can't slow down,
You can't let go and you can't hold on,
You can't go back and you can't stand still,
If the thunder don't get you then the lightning will.

Won't you try just a little bit harder,
Couldn't you try just a little bit more?
Won't you try just a little bit harder,
Couldn't you try just a little bit more?

Round, round robin run round, got to get back to where you belong,
Little bit harder, just a little bit more,
A little bit further than you gone before.”

The Grateful Dead

When my friend Mike died a year ago, I felt lost.   I didn’t know what I was going to do without my coach, amazing friend and confidant.  What I didn’t realize at the time is that I wouldn’t have to live without him, and although I no longer receive excited emails from him after a particularly good race, or hear his jovial voice on the phone; his presence has rung loud and clear over the past year. 

I felt his energy during a particularly good run in Huntsville where I swear that he laughed in my ear and asked me “isn’t this fun?” 
 I shed bitter tears at the Grand Canyon as the red rock left me awestruck and breathless.  
When I was exhausted with frustration at mile 76 of Big Horn, he talked me out of quitting. 
He helped me coax Fred to a stunning finish at Wasatch, and even tried to get me to enjoy the day as my race performance fell short in Palo Duro. 

He has coached me through the pain and despair of grief and continues to encourage me to “let go.”

He’s shown me that life is to be lived in the present, and that we are here to appreciate our humanity. 

He’s taught me to listen to my intuition, to trust and to believe. 

I still miss Mike, but having a friend on the other side of the veil is actually pretty cool.  This white girl has finally found her soul.