by Steffan Ledgerwood
The road that is life is a long journey. Sometimes you have your route all planned out while other times it seems like you are always stopping and asking for directions. There are even occasional moments where you sit there and wonder, “how did I get here anyway?” Recently, while running a 20-miler in preparation for the first marathon of my life, I found myself asking this very question.
I was eight years old, enjoying a family picnic in the Great Smokey Mountains National Park. Three of my siblings and I were playing in the river when we heard the loud clanging of metal from the opposite bank. We turned in unison to see our mom beating a garbage can lid with a stick and yelling inaudibly. We looked at her, then at one another, and yelled back in chorus “What?” She repeated herself a second time in true southern fashion…(slow and drawn out) “There…Is…A…Bear…Behind…You!”
The road that is life is a long journey. Sometimes you have your route all planned out while other times it seems like you are always stopping and asking for directions. There are even occasional moments where you sit there and wonder, “how did I get here anyway?” Recently, while running a 20-miler in preparation for the first marathon of my life, I found myself asking this very question.
I was eight years old, enjoying a family picnic in the Great Smokey Mountains National Park. Three of my siblings and I were playing in the river when we heard the loud clanging of metal from the opposite bank. We turned in unison to see our mom beating a garbage can lid with a stick and yelling inaudibly. We looked at her, then at one another, and yelled back in chorus “What?” She repeated herself a second time in true southern fashion…(slow and drawn out) “There…Is…A…Bear…Behind…You!”
This is the river. We were a little too busy to get a photo of the bear. The memory of what ensued plays back in my head like “The Matrix” (you know, the slow motion, bullets flying, dodging everything scene). The four of us (ages ten, eight, six, and four) run in slow motion across the rocks of the river. My older brother, who was pretty big for his age, picks up my four-year-old brother and takes off running. My sister and I race by him to the river, never looking back. This was the first time in my life I realized that I WAS REALLY FAST! As I approached the far bank of the river I turned around to see what was happening behind me. My sister was swimming across the river as I had just done and my oldest brother had thrown my younger brother into the river. The bear was just a few feet away from him at the river’s edge when a park ranger fired his gun into the air, scaring off the bear. The family was saved, we were on the news, and the story of being chased by a bear has been revisited many times at family gatherings.
While it is always fun to remember the adventures and detours that life has given us, sometimes we come across a memory or a moment that is more. That moment is a life changer that leads us down a trail that wasn’t even on the map. This memory is where I found my answer to the question that I have been asked many times in my marathon training…"why did you start running?" My answer…to stay alive!
(Oh and my brother, the one who carried my other brother to safety…he is a park ranger.)
Check out Steffan's profile on our Contributors page.
While it is always fun to remember the adventures and detours that life has given us, sometimes we come across a memory or a moment that is more. That moment is a life changer that leads us down a trail that wasn’t even on the map. This memory is where I found my answer to the question that I have been asked many times in my marathon training…"why did you start running?" My answer…to stay alive!
(Oh and my brother, the one who carried my other brother to safety…he is a park ranger.)
Check out Steffan's profile on our Contributors page.
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