0.35 miles

0.35 miles doesn't seem like much. I could run that distance backwards in heels if that was all I was running. However, on a hot day when the humidity is a million percent (actual recorded value...sort of), and I'm trying desperately to finish a 7 mile run so as to not be too behind in training, 0.35 miles seems like an eternity. At the beginning of a run, 0.35 miles is barely a scratch on the surface of a long run. But when I've stopped to take a breather and a swig of water a gazillion times (I stopped counting at a billion, so this number is approximate), I might as well set up camp for the night when I'm 0.35 miles from home. 0.35 miles is not an impressive distance by any measure, but for me it was the difference of a 6.65 mile run, and the 7 mile run I was targeting. My total time was not impressive by any measure, but my total time was for the full 7 miles I wanted to cover. The amount of stopping I had to do was not impressive by any measure, however I ran with my inner yogi in charge, understanding my limits in that moment, in that space, at that time, at those conditions. I even stopped to smell the roses, literally. I consumed so much water that I ran out. Twice. I was able to stop once to fill up at a public drinking fountain, but I neared the end of my supply again...0.35 miles from the finish. I was hot. I drank. I dumped some over my head. 0.35 miles until I'm done, I thought. I can do this. Motivation was low. Then I heard a question. "Can I get you some water?" A man had stepped out from his house, in front of which I was stopped. "It's just tap water." I assured him that would be fine and thanked him profusely. "My name is John, by the way."
"Thank you, John,"
What John may not realize is that his simple act of kindness in the gift of water did more than quench my thirst. It motivated me to finish those last 0.35 miles. And not only did I finish, I finished with a smile on my face.