Monday, May 18, 2009
Every year, DH and I participate in the local "Race Against Gun Violence." It's sponsored by a husband (judge/attorney my DH knows) and wife (works in a store where I shop) whose son was killed in a random shooting. We walk in the race to support these lovely people, to add two more voices, to add our presence and support, to Increase the Peace.
Yesterday, we started out at the Reef Festival at the beach, an unrelated event to bring awareness of the oceans, coral reefs, ecology, etc - it was fun, interesting stuff, people we knew, time to walk the beach, etc.
Then we headed straight to town for the run, drinking water and eating a granola bar for energy. We registered. We put on our numbers. DH put on his running shoes. We stood around talking to friends, and people watching. I talked to a teacher from my school whose son had been shot a few nights before (he's fine, it was another bizarre random shooting, no one knows why their car was shot at). More and more people showed up for the run. More and more people and groups of kids were registered.
The race started an hour late. DH and I looked at each other - my knee, which had been acting up for a few days, was growing increasingly stiff and I was starting to limp. DH had 45 minutes before his daily meds (we're talking life-saving meds here, not just aspirin or vitamins). He said "Do we want to bag this?" I said between my knee and his meds, maybe not. So we turned in our numbers and told the people to DQ us, we had to go. And we did.
We did get in some walking, we just didn't have time for 2 more miles plus the speeches and the rally and then the drive back home.
I was kind of disappointed. But my knee was happy to be home and propped up. And, well, we made the financial contribution (goes to a scholarship fund), we showed our faces, our support was noted. Sometimes that's all you can do.