The chalked messages on the paved pathway along the Dallas Road cliffs were like tangled spaghetti noodles.
Obviously left over from an event in recent weeks, the phrases were half-sentences of encouragement.
Then from among the mess, one message suddenly stood out as if it had been written in a highlighter pen: “Denise, who inspires you.”
It was as if I was getting a personal message from God, or rather the Running Goddess.
I have to admit, I was feeling pretty giddy at this point in my weekend long run.
It has been weeks since a sharp pain in my right IT band reduced my aspirations for a spring half-marathon to a program of rehab and recovery.
Having been injured before, and through visits to physiotherapists, a personal trainer at the gym, slavish attention to stretching and strengthening, I knew that recovery is possible. The alternative is not pleasant to contemplate – giving up the stress-battling, weight-maintaining benefits of running would make me extremely cranky (and lumpy).
This weekend was the first time I tested my right leg with a distance longer than 11 kilometres.
My attempt to run two hours was marked by a sore knee at 49 minutes, with the pain subsiding then later migrating into my adductor about 25 minutes later but otherwise I was thrilled to be out on the road as long as I was.
I was within a half-kilometre of my starting point at the Beacon Hill petting zoo, when I came upon the chalked message.
I knew immediately who inspires me – my mother and my daughter.
My mother Ollie can’t get around so easily these days. At 86, she is resting on the sidelines, knowing she’s done an incredible job raising six children and now also supporting and cheering on 12 grandchildren and two great grandchildren.
Over the years, our relationship has evolved and wisdom has become a conversation rather than a one-direction dispensation of advice.
When I put together a slideshow for my parents’ 60th-annivesaray celebration a few years ago, I was struck by the early photos of a vivacious, fun-loving young woman. 
Her dancing brown eyes have remained mischievous and full of love, even as the years made demands that none of us can avoid.
From her I have learned determination, perseverance, the rewards of sacrifice and the joy of giving.
For every kilometer I can run, I am reminded that there are so many others who would love to run, but can’t due to age or circumstance.
My other inspiration is my daughter Simone.
At 10 years old, she is just discovering what sports and physical achievement can add to one’s life for good health and friendships.
An avid soccer player and competitive swimmer, her seemingly endless laps in the pool inspire me to stick to my own training, especially on those days when I have a hundred excuses in my back pocket.
Seeing her strive to improve is a reminder that progress doesn’t come to the lazy or unmotivated.
When she wakes up to see me just returning from an early-morning run or when we talk about our workouts good and bad, or something funny that happened with our swimming or running buddies, I hope she one day realizes how much I learned from her, even at her young age, and how the friendships forged in setting goals and training can be so rewarding.
So thanks Mom and Simone. When I finally get to the start line of next race, I’ll have you close in mind and heart.
