The Miracle

“You don’t have to pray for a damn miracle. You are the fucking miracle.” I saw this on my Instagram feed over the weekend. This is a fabulous follow-on to my post about YOU being the answer. We are our own answer and we are our own miracle.
 
In 2013, I trained my ass off (literally!) for a 100 mile run in the Keys. I was SO ready, and my crew was ready to get me to that finish line. I trained smart, and I trained hard. Eight days before the race, I was doing a mid-day run for the heat. It was 90 degrees and I was 8 miles into a 10 mile run. I was feeling great, I was in a happy mood, and then all of a sudden I heard it. The pop of a muscle tearing. My calf. I collapsed to the asphalt not knowing what the hell just happened. When I tried to get up, my leg buckled from the pain. I was a mile from my car, in seething pain, and now sobbing. I managed to limp back to my car. I sat in my car, windows shut, 125 degrees in the baking heat, crying so hard I thought my eyelids were going to be permanently inside out. There was a knock on my window. A very concerned woman looking onward asking if I was okay and needed help. I assured her I was fine and that I’d be okay. I wasn’t.
 
I phoned my mom. My dad. My crew chief. I found a chiro who did ART therapy which I ended up getting done almost every day before the race. There was no way I wasn’t toeing that line. I wasn’t letting myself, my crew, or anyone else down. The day came, I toed the line, and off we went. I made it 50 miles in 96 degree heat before I figured I’d better stop before I’d never run again. My miracle was knowing to stop whether I wanted to or not. I had to. For myself. I became my own miracle that day. I did the right thing. Guess where that got me… I came back even stronger and finished that 100 mile race the next year in 26 hours.
 
What miracle did you prove to yourself to know YOU are the miracle? Please, share! I’d love to know!