Here come three runners, about 200 metres from the finish line of a six kilometre race.  But for most people that’s not the right word.  The competition is only with themselves.

From the right, you see my friend Rani, her dad Luc and her cousin Lara.  They ran the whole distance together, supporting each other.

A few months ago, Rani said “I’m doing this!  Even if I have to walk some of it.”  (Or words to that effect)

And she began training … slowly and no doubt unsurely.  Running in a race was a “first time” in her life.  Good for her.  May we all have lots of first times.

Yesterday at 2:30 pm was the launch time.  Before then, maybe a hundred folks stretched and jogged a bit, all decked out in their workout kits – some very colourful.

I talked to Rani’s brother Jari about walking fast to an intersection that was about at the four kilometre point, so we could cheer on the tremendous trio.  Four of us set off when the runners did.

I knew we had reached the point in plenty of time to watch our heroes pass by.  But I knew wrong.  The organizers had changed the direction of the race loop.  Everybody was long gone!  (Sigh)

Only moderately distraught, I accompanied my companions to the end point – a football (soccer) stadium.  There waited Rani’s mom Karen and her aunt, whose name I can’t remember.

Then the moment you see.  After that, the announcer called out each runner’s name as they approached the finish line.  So cool! 

Athletes all.  And heroes.  Doing something magnificent, something that stretches so far beyond the daily round.

Well done, Rani … and everyone else

Self-applause is in order