With spring in the air, it’s always fun to look at the tops of trees for bird’s nests. I am amazed at how many you can find before the leaves fill in and the branches are obscured from sight. As a little girl, I remember my dad had an incubator. For all of us kids, hatching eggs in the incubator was such fun. My dad would carefully place the eggs on the little trays and then shut the door for a few weeks. The waiting drove us crazy, but eventually, we would hear the soft peep of newly hatched chicks coming from the other side of the door.

Carefully opening the door, we would find these little chicks that had broken out of their shells. Inevitably we would also find some eggs where the chicks had not hatched yet. I remember being so tempted to help the chick out, and probably would have had my dad instructed me not to. As a child I thought, why couldn’t I help this poor little chick in need.  If I help, he can catch up with the others who are already ahead of where he is now, and look at how much the little guy is struggling? My dad simply told me; if you help that chick out of the egg, it will die.

 For the last decade my husband has been my sprint/ hurdle coach. As my coach he has worked on, researched, and designed my training to give me my optimal chance of performing to my best ability. As my husband he has seen me work through exhaustion, disappointment, sacrifices, triumphs, and struggles. As my coach he could see the NECESSITY of the training protocol.  As my husband, I’m sure he has wanted to excuse me from many of the difficulties I’ve had to face. True support can be just as hard on the supportive loved ones as it is on the “dream chaser”. There is a level of sacrifice; a type of sweat equity that must be paid if an individual is to succeed.

Immediately following double hip surgery in February of 2014, I was in a wheelchair. At first I needed the support of the wheelchair.  I could stand with support for a short time but walking was not an option. As the days and weeks progressed my body began to heal and slowly I was regaining my strength. I wanted not only to walk again but I wanted to compete on the track again.  Each day I would push myself to walk more and more, I still needed the support of the wheel chair after these exertions.

It can be a tricky balance between 

standing on your own two feet and allowing others to support you. 

As a child, not helping the chicks break out of their shells didn’t make sense to me.  Today with more experience and maturity, I can see the necessity of working through struggles in order to gain personal strength. Once the chick has done the work of breaking its shell, it will need the warmth, food, and protection that comes from another source. Perspective is needed in deciding which things are the “eggs shells” I alone must break; and which are the “warmth, food, and protection” that come from another source.  This line of continual progression also means that things that you once needed help with, you may not always need help with. Eventually the chick learns to find food and shelter on its own. From personal experience I can attest to how scary it can be to take on new responsibilities.

I recently read a quote by Eleanor Roosevelt – she said, 

“Women are like teabags. 

We don’t know our 

true strength 

until we are in hot water!” 

I would say that holds true for many of us. At times when confronted with a challenge and no option but to work though it we find that we have a strength beyond anything we ever knew. This type of growth can be painful, but I truly believe that this type of grown makes the strongest human beings around.

In the end I alone must run my race, but each time I come to the start line I have never traveled there on my own. I have gained strength through challenges I have faced. I have also had a number of people who have mentored, loved, encouraged, and supported me along the way. 

I alone run, but I’m not truly running alone!