On a bus bound for Mazatlan . . .

I love to run. Ever since the middle of college, when I spent a summer working in the Colorado Rockies at a Christian Science summer camp, I’ve been enthralled by the sport. For me, running is such a pure way to demonstrate God’s qualities. I relish the time every morning to reflect God-given qualities such as freedom, persistence, tirelessness, joy, and self-discipline every time I lace up my running shoes. 

Any sense of being shaken by the accident had completely given way to a feeling of peace.

Recently, I lived in Mexico for two years and was able to compete in numerous marathons and half-marathons all over the country. Last December, I eagerly boarded a bus bound for Mazatlan, looking forward to an exciting weekend. My friend Miguel and I would make the overnight bus trip Friday night, spend a wonderful weekend in the city, then cap the trip off with the 26.2 mile marathon race on Sunday morning. After boarding the bus and chatting with Miguel for an hour or two, I drifted off to sleep for several hours.

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