Shout Out to Mama Holloway

This post is a salute to the wonderful woman that has everything to do with the kind of people we are today. I want to share, briefly, how a simple 5k race evidenced our mother's amazing character and greatly increased my admiration for her. I apologize beforehand for the lack of pictures. I threw a pic in of mom so ya'll will know who I'm talking about if you don't already, but there are no running pics this time. I promise to make up for it in future posts.

Mom has always supported us in the various sports we have attempted. From pee-wee soccer, to wrestling and cross country, and even through the disastrous years when some of us thought we could play football and basketball, mom has been there through it all. And she has always unselfishly taken the time to watch and cheer us on at every race, match, and game she could possibly attend. Well, on Saturday, November 19th, it was my turn to support mom as she ran in a turkey trot 5k in Blackfoot. The run was part of an eagle scout project, and the entry fee was five cans of food. Mom had been training for a while and had run three miles a few times before on treadmills and around the track, but she was still pretty nervous for her first real race. Having hurt herself lifting weights a few days before, she was still sore before the race, which only added to her nervousness. I have to confess that I am not as unselfish as mom because I couldn't keep myself from running at my pace and trying to place in the top three. Although mom said she didn't want to slow me down, I still felt a twinge of guilt at leaving her behind. But I justified myself by saying that I would run fast, then turning back to find her once I finished. As we lined up for the start, she look at me and imploringly said, "you promise you'll come back for me?" I reassured her and turned my attention to the race. It turned out to be harder than I expected, but I'll tackle that story in a different post. For reasons I wil discuss later, I didn't catch up with mom until she had already gone about 2 miles or so. As I approached her, she had tears streaming down her face and could barely gasp out the words "I've been waiting for you!" The sight of my dear mother in such agony broke my heart instantly. I wished with all my heart that I could somehow take away all her pain and suffering. Yet try as I may, I found I could do nothing more than stand by and cheer her on. In an ironic change of circumstance, it was my turn to watch from the sidelines, as she has done so many times before, powerless to intervene. I rambled on to her about how close she was to finishing and how I wouldn't leave her alone. Then I watched her dig deep inside and find strength I'm not sure she knew she posessed. Step by step, Mom inched her way toward the finish, awing all who watched with her firm resolve and boundless courage. Walking through the chute with her, I was overwhelmed with a feeling of pride in my mother, and felt honored to have been raised by such a magnificent woman.

Mom, your finishing time may have been the slowest on that day, but the heart and sheer determination that you exuded is more admirable than any olympic medal in the world. Your quiet example reminds us of why we run. It isn't to gain accolades or worldly praise; and it certainly isn't to impress anyone (that's a lost cause). As I watched you struggle, I thought of a saying that you taught me many years before. Whenever I got angry because I wasn't as tall or athletic as other children, you calmly taught me the words to the serenity prayer: "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference." There are many things that our feeble bodies will not allow us to do, but our lack of accomplishment does not have to define us. We have more power than we realize. We learn from your example that if we simply exercise courage enough to harness that power, we can accomplish marvelous things. A stranger would say that you merely completed a 3.1 mile race. But to you, and those of us close enough to you to understand, we know that this race signified much, much more. Congratulations to you sweet mother. You are first place in my mind.