I woke up this morning thinking I would have to run on the treadmill (snow) or not run at all (foot).  To my delight, I was able to run, and because we got about 2-4 flakes (instead of the 2-4 inches predicted), I ran outside.  I ran alone, which I thought might be lonely on this particular occasion, but it wasn’t.  In fact it was the opposite.  I didn’t feel alone at all.  I felt like each and every runner participating in the Run for Sherry was right there with me in spirit.  After a brief moment of silence for Sherry, I hit the trail for a slow, steady, quiet run.  I run these trails all the time, but today I really took the time to appreciate it all:  the weather, the river, the packed dirt trail, the fellow runners, and the fact that I could run.  That I was running.  Because a fellow runner, Sherry Arnold, lost her life doing that one thing that bonds us runners together.  Which is unspeakably unfair and wrong on so many levels.  I didn’t know Sherry.  I don’t know her family.  I know of her because of her cousin Beth who writes one of my favorite blogs.  Beth organized this event and I’m so glad she did.  Not only will Sherry’s family be able to witness the outpouring of support, but it gives all of us runners — forces us, really — to take a moment and forget about the petty bullshit.  And to really appreciate what we do have.  I hope Sherry’s family felt the love.  And I hope they continue to find support as they try to move on from this tragedy.  I felt honored to be able to be part of the process.