05/14/2023
Mother’s Day 5K
– by Lee Julius
Crisp, windy sky, on a rainy Sunday morning.
Just me and my Mom. Participating in our first
Mother’s Day 5K Run. A loving chance to spend
miles together with Mom on her special day.
Tagged by locals as “One Mother of a Run”
with scenic, grueling hills and valleys throughout.
Mom and I gather near the rear of the pack,
avoiding hectic positioning by serious 5K runners.
The race starts. I coax my body, brain and brawn
into take-off mode, only to recognize someone
painfully shouting my name for immediate help.
“Lee!” It is my Mom. Falling at the starting line.
Crumpling behind me. Unable to feel her feet.
Both ankles severely twisted. What a mess.
But the race is still on. It is time to get moving.
First Mother’s Day 5K together and I will not
let somber ailments and emotions spoil it.
I lift her high, flipping her above my head and
awkwardly draping limp limbs over my shoulder.
Do my best to secure her, make her comfortable.
Traumatized, yet angrily determined to carry her
the entire 5K course, since she can’t run herself.
Hilarious. We are quite a sight. The other lively
mother-son and mother-daughter pairings all
competing side-by-side. Horizontal. Here comes
Mom and me, stacked vertical like a totem pole.
She bouncing, flaying at the top. Me balancing
both of us miraculously from the shaky bottom.
First half of the 5K is flat as a frying pan of gravy.
Second half uneven, like lumpy, mashed potatoes.
Legs feeling deader and deader with each stride,
hands clenching tight to cold black and blue ankles.
My eyes sizzling with salty sweat, like the flood of
weeping tears that swell and burn during a funeral.
Eventually, Mom and I complete the final uphill.
A short, downhill approach to the end is in sight.
Amazing applause as I cross the finish line – I mean
as we cross the finish line – is deeply appreciated.
No easy task carrying Mom 3.1 miles, start to finish.
Still, that’s what sons or daughters do for moms
on a Mother’s Day 5K run after Mom falls, lifeless.
Not a good 5K clocking. Run time doesn’t matter.
I knew it was going to be my slowest 5K run, ever.
I knew before the start of our first Mother’s Day 5K
I would shoulder memory of Mother the entire run.
