More Humility

"You and Dad are in the Forties Column, right Mom?" asked the first grader last night. Trying to go with the flow of first grade math I answered that we both were indeed in the forties column. "And after 49, you would go to 50, right Mom? I mean, if you live that long."  He was alarmed at the raucous outburst of laughter that followed - both my older children and husband found the thought of my early death quite amusing. I sputtered my way through reassurances that if I did live to 49 I would certainly find 50 right around the bend.

Daniel's calm around the topic of my age and potential early demise reassured me that my summer's illness had not scarred him for life. Perhaps he has formed a back-up plan in the case that I off myself with another autoimmune high-wire act. His attitude is healthy but humbling. I've found a lot of humbling waiting for me in recent weeks.

On Friday I had a walking date with some close friends who have always been partners in crime when it comes to hiking, biking, running, etc. We planned to hike the Bluffs that morning, which lie to the south of us and present about 2.5 miles of up and down hill trails. The Bluffs have always been a fun walking and running challenge for me, but I was nervous last week that I would not make it, especially at the pace usually set by the girls. I confided my worry to one, who offered to reschedule for a flat trail. Humbled though I was, I couldn't change the route, deciding instead to hope for the best and ask for help (by way of piggy back, bungee cord, or extended rest break) when I needed it.

I was poignantly reminded of a hike we took several years ago in the Colorado mountains with a varied-ability group. Two friends and I felt the need for speed and, after a short while with the others, blazed ahead at a rapid pace to get the heart rate up and the caloric burn. I was chastised by my dear friend and mentor - a79-year-old poster person for health and fitness and strength. He reminded me that a leader always stays with the group and helps everyone succeed,  never bolting ahead in a show of strength and speed. He admitted to similar desires, which took the sting out of his words, but I don't know if I truly "got" the message until last week, when I was the loser at the back, feeling the potential to be left out of companionship and friendship and fun due to my physical limitations.

I made it around the Bluffs without setback or serious concern, but I'll think twice about my trailblazing ways if I am lucky enough to keep walking and hiking as a part of my lifestyle. The perspective from the back has changed my desire to lead from the front.