This Monday marked the beginning of the Love4Gambia 2012 run. One week shy of the one year anniversary of my run across The Gambia, with my team, Pa Modou, Kebba and Spider at her side, Ottawa runner Andrea Moritz took her first steps from the cinder block in a farm field on the border of Senegal on the 424km journey to the Atlantic Ocean. I’d been waiting for this moment since Andrea accepted the challenge of running across the Gambia last fall. I’ve been full of anticipation for her and gratitude for the generous people who have donated to the NSGA (making the mission of saving lives with the run a reality. And I’ve been wondering how I would feel.
I haven’t blogged since March 20, a month prior to the birth of our daughter. As I prepared for Love4Gambia 2012, I realized that I had words finally ready for writing. And with a now 2 month old baby, each day is sunnier and I’m finally ready for my blogging keyboard.
I watched online as Andrea traveled to The Gambia and on Friday, read a post from Pa Modou saying, “We are going to the airport to pick up our runner.”
Emotion punched me in the face when I read this. “Our runner.” I was “our runner.” As a new mom, child-related metaphors are within close reach. I wondered if this is what the firstborn child feels like when her parents bring a new baby, a second child, home. She might feel a similar mix of envy and dismay as she realizes that she has to share her parents love and her place in the world with another human.
These emotions where fleeting though. I read them on my iPhone as I rocked my perfect baby girl. With my sweet babe in my arms, I thought about my feelings and clarity arose as the envy dissipated.
Love4Gambia was my idea but it was never my run. And it was never about me. Just like “our runner” doesn’t belong to me, the run doesn’t belong to me. The run belongs to The Gambia. It belongs to the indomitable spirit of the South Bank Road; to the hardworking women farmers; to the bright and eager school kids; to the the toddlers chasing the school kids; to the mothers with babies on their backs; to Pa Modou, Kebba and the incredible NSGA staff who work so hard for a brighter, healthier tomorrow for Gambians.
By running this year, Andrea is keeping the Love4Gambia dream alive but the run doesn’t belong to her either.
On Sunday, as the team relaxed on the beach in The Gambia, my family relaxed on my native PEI. I went for a long run and purposely chose a route that would bring me through rural farm country- so similar to The Gambia. While I was running, I closed eyes (on a safe, empty stretch of road) for a few strides. I could feel Kebba’s stride in sync with mine, smiling and chiding me to stop asking so many questions. I could picture Pa on horn, belting out Akon. I could see Spider singing and dancing on the road up ahead and hear Ashley singing Bryan Adams next to me.
While run never belonged to me, what it left onside me, what I walked away from Atlantic Ocean and the South Bank Road with will belong to me forever.
Now my daughter and I will watch my team and Andrea, “their runner,” charge to the Atlantic Ocean in Banjul from our rocking chair.
There is no place in the world I’d rather be.
Up next on my blog (when I have free hands long enough to type): labour and delivery ARE similar to marathon racing
Forever in Running Shoes 