Run Forrest! Run

Finishing a 10k last Saturday

I ran a 10k over the weekend on what turned out to be one of those classic Kansas afternoons—beautiful, windy, and 85 degrees at the starting line. The race wound through our little town, and as I pounded the pavement in that heat, my mind had plenty of time to wander. Running does that to you. It gives you space to think, to process, to just be. And boy, did I need that.

Here's what struck me most: how lonely it felt out there.

Now, I'm not talking about the size of the race or the number of runners. I'm talking about the lack of encouragement along the course. There were people stationed at intersections for safety—doing their job, keeping us safe—but most of them barely acknowledged us. Maybe a small clap here and there. Some were glued to their phones, and I couldn't help but wonder if they'd even notice if a car came through.

It frustrated me at first, but then I turned that mirror on myself. How often do I walk through life not really seeing the people around me? Not offering encouragement when someone might desperately need it? These volunteers probably had never run a 10k, especially not in 85-degree heat, so they didn't know what we needed out there. They didn't know that a cowbell, some music, or even just an enthusiastic "You've got this!" could be the thing that keeps a runner's legs moving.

It reminded me of those memes: "You never know what someone is going through."

So I made myself a promise for this week. I'll be more intentional about noticing people—especially the ones I'd normally overlook. And whenever I can, I'll offer some encouragement. We all need it more than we think.

The other thing I kept asking myself out there was: "Why in the world am I doing this run in this heat?"

For me, running is therapy. It's how I release everything that gets bottled up inside. My family has been navigating some changes recently—the kind that bring stressors I've never dealt with before. Running helps me get through it. It gives me the space I need to process without having to put words to everything right away.

It's like that scene in Forrest Gump when Jenny yells, "Run, Forrest! Run!" He's just a kid, wearing leg braces, running from bullies. It's pure survival. But later, when he's an adult running across the country, it's different. He's processing grief, confusion, heartache. Running becomes his way of finding clarity when nothing else makes sense.

I get that. Running is simple. It doesn't require overthinking. It just is.

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I know things have been quiet around here lately—not many blog posts, fewer social media updates. Life has needed more of my attention, and I've had to shift my focus to what matters most right now. But I'm still here, and I'm not going anywhere.

Starting this week, I'm going to kick off "Wednesday Wisdom"—a weekly quote posted to social media to give you something to chew on mid-week.

If you're not already following This One Life on Facebook, Instagram, or LinkedIn, I'd love for you to join me there. The links are below. I've got some updates that I'll be sharing soon, and I want you to be among the first to know.

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So here's what I'm taking away from that hot, lonely 10k:

We all need encouragement—even when (especially when) we don't ask for it. Pay attention to the people around you. Notice them. Cheer them on. You never know what race they're running.

And sometimes, the best thing you can do for yourself is to just keep moving. One foot in front of the other. It doesn't have to be pretty or perfect. It just has to be forward.

What about you? When's the last time you offered encouragement to someone who needed it? Or better yet—when's the last time you gave yourself permission to process what you're going through, whatever that looks like for you?