Did He Run It For Me? From broken bones to a marathon...

Today he came by for lunch. He walked in, one hip at an angle, a crooked smile on his face.

"Do you hurt?" I asked. I know. It's a dumb question.

"I feel great," he said.

It's been a roller coaster two weeks. On the 18th I got a call from my niece. "Kim's hurt," she said. "They are life flighting her to a hospital."

She lives in Colorado, but was in Oklahoma fourwheeling on 4,000 acres at a place called Little Saraha. She was hit by a large monster vehicle, thrown 60 feet, and knocked out. Her helmet broke in half on contact with the other vehicle.

As we raced to Kansas (trauma hospital) we arrived to discover she had numerous fractures, lacerated spleen and spine, dislocated hip, blown-out knee and a whopping concussion.

Seeing her was tough. It brought me back to a day when my son was hurt by a drunk driver. Twelve fractures from the waist down, extensive therapy, six weeks in the hospital, relearning how to walk and then run. It all flooded back in an instant.

But with a twist.

You see, that is the same son who was scheduled to run the OCK Memorial Marathon the next weekend.

When he was in the hospital, all I could see was the injuries. I had no way of knowing what was ahead. What I learned through that year-long process is that broken bones heal.

When Kim saw me walk into the room she cocked one swollen eye at me and said, "How's the collarbone?"

I wanted to laugh, and then cry. It was my biggest fear. She had taken such a huge hit to her head. But our Kim was still in there.

She called when Ryan finished the Marathon. "Did he run any of it for me?" she asked.

Yes, sweet Kim. See those arms open wide as he flew across the finish line? He was running with all of his heart, and you'll run again, too.