This morning Baby Girl and I ran past a lovely elderly lady, all dressed up in pink and busy with her early morning walk. She started chatting to us as we ran past her and told us the delightful story of how she regularly ran with her son in his stroller back in the 1950's. Wow, can you imagine?! In an era with no fancy running strollers; no state of the art running shoes or gear made from wicking materials; and a society that generally frowned upon women who ran long distances, never mind women who ran long distances with their babies in tow, she chose to run. With her clunky old stroller, her cotton sweatpants and her baby boy. Because she loved it. Wow. I was in awe.
|1950's Baby Carriage [Source].|
As we waved good-bye, she said with a wink and a twinkle in her eye that her "baby boy" is now 63 years old. And I couldn't help but notice how she herself looked much younger than her 80+ years.
For the remainder of our run I just couldn't wipe the smile off my face. I love how this strong, lovely woman reminded me of so many important things: That the main stream isn't always (ever?) where the contentment lies; that being different is no excuse for sitting on the sidelines; and that choosing to do, and doing, something that is difficult in the short run, but makes you happy in the long run, brings so much joy.
What a woman.