My daughter, Jasmine, just ran her first half marathon — 13.1 miles (over 21 km) of inspiration. I was there to support her endeavor. As I approached the start line, I was greeted by a sea of women almost 3000 strong who were challenging their inner selves — their anxiousness, determination, and excitement visible in the revelry of the moment.
I walked along the course and saw most of the runners make the turn at the half way point. The initial exuberance had given way to a determined pounding of the road. Inexplicably,I became the cheerleader to these nameless women who ran past. The sweat, the pain, the exhaustion very visible in each step. A number of them reached out to slap my hand, or smile as a way of saying “thank you,” for my constant shouts of encouragement.
As Jasmine ran by I shouted out her name — “Almost done Dad,” she said with a big smile. I knew different. She was only half way done. For some strange reason, I was no longer worried. I knew she would finish strong.
I found the entire experience to be extremely emotional. Was it because I can’t run? Or was it because I was inspired by Jasmine and thousands of these women who had set goals, trained hard, and were now digging deep to find the energy to compete and accomplish personal goals?
I watched as they crossed the finish line one-by-one. Tired, exuberant, spent. I promised my daughter I would never miss any of her races. It’s amazing what I learned from the experience of my little girl and these inspirational women. Next time I get tired in the gym, there will be no quit in me. Time to pound the rock.
About Hemant Rustogi