The T Zone

Published: May 7, 2009  ~   0
By Laura Edwards

This Saturday, Taylor will run in her second 5K when she joins her Girls on the Run teammates at Charlotte’s Latta Park for the culmination of their spring program.

The expression on T’s face as she crossed the finish line of the Jingle Jog 5K this past December with her running buddy, Mary-Kate, is still fresh in my memory. The bungee cord that connected them was T’s lifeline that day. For me, it symbolized hope: proof that nothing – even a disability like T’s – is cause enough for giving up on a dream.
T has a lot of fans, and while I know you’ll all be there in spirit on Saturday, she needs some of you there in person. The Packers have the Cheeseheads. Duke has the Cameron Crazies. Michigan State has the Izzone. If you’re in Charlotte this weekend, please consider coming out to Latta Park and forming a cheering section for T – call it the T-Zone. Then, watch her finish the race. When she crosses that line, you’ll understand the magic that is her story. And it’s not just her story, not really. Rather, it’s the story of any girl who’s ever overcome an obstacle, discovered her own gifts and embraced them.
The race starts at 9 a.m. on Saturday at Latta Park in the Dilworth neighborhood. Click here for details.
Go, T, go!

The Road that Leads Us There

Published: April 8, 2009  ~   0
By Laura Edwards

Last night, UNC won the national title with what was, for me, the sweetest victory I’ve ever experienced as a sports fan. Now, if you happen to be a Michigan State fan, or if you’re just not particularly fond of my alma mater (it’s okay), I hope you’ll continue reading. This post is not about college basketball. Not really.

Last October, the Tar Heels celebrated the return of its six leading scorers, including the reigning national player of the year, from the ’07-’08 Final Four team. The squad was anointed as one of the best ever before its first practice. There was talk of an undefeated season and an easy run to the title.Then, amazingly, the invincible team from Chapel Hill slipped up. Tyler Hansbrough was diagnosed with a stress reaction in his shin and sat out a couple of games. Marcus Ginyard had foot surgery, tried coming back unsuccessfully and took a redshirt. Tyler Zeller broke his wrist. There was the 0-2 start in conference play. A mere two hours into the ACC season, at home against Boston College, the dream of an undefeated season vanished. And the Heels, by all appearances at least, were on their heels. Panic ensued in the hearts of Carolina fans everywhere.
Bit by bit, though, the team pulled it together. There was the detour late in the season at Maryland and the near-loss at Florida State (sans the late-game heroics of Ty Lawson, Florida State would have won) and the loss in the ACC tournament, albeit without the services of Lawson. But there was the sweep of arch rival Duke and the emergence of Wayne Ellington and the hustle of Bobby Frasor and the usual Everyman performance of Danny Green and the inside presence of Ed Davis and Deon Thompson and the workmanlike grit of Hansbrough. After that loss in the conference tournament, the Heels still earned a number one seed in the NCAAs, but most experts predicted that the champion would come out of the powerful Big East.
 
If you’re not a Carolina fan, and I haven’t lost you yet, I feel pretty good about keeping you till the end. And I still say this post isn’t about basketball. The point is, the team didn’t panic. They played for each other, they learned to play better defense, they ran a balanced attack, and they listened to their coach. They played for the seniors at their last dance and the underclassmen who came back for one more song. And though they didn’t take the most direct route, and though they encountered some twists and turns in the road along the way, in the end, they were still national champs.

Sports aren’t everything – not even close. But they’re a pretty good analogy for life more often than not, and the best part is, they occur in a strangely beautiful alternate world where hard fouls hurt and losses hurt even more, but none of it really matters in the end, relatively speaking anyway. I can’t ever walk away from the painful truth that my sister has a devastating illness – one that has permeated her life and mine and those of everyone who loves her and even some who don’t know her well enough to love her but have seen the fight in her. I’m not living my life the way I once imagined because of my twists and turns in the road. And in many respects, that’s okay. How often does life turn out just the way we imagined? And do we really want it that way, even if it was possible?

I don’t know what will happen tomorrow or the next day or the next. I don’t know when the cure for Batten disease will be discovered or if it will happen in time for my sister. I wish I could quit taking detours, but I can’t. This disease hasn’t done much good for me or anyone compared to the way it’s robbed her, and I’d like to think God has an easier way of teaching us lessons and will decide to go soft on me one of these days. But until He starts to show signs of letting up, I might as well listen up.
 
Those twists and turns in the road on the way to your destination are what make you who you are. How you live them – how you face them – is sometimes your best shot at reaching your desired destination, whether that’s a spot on the podium during One Shining Moment or a spot next to your little sister on her wedding day. No one ever told me this was going to be easy. But there’s one thing I know for sure, all on my own – and this only works for as long as I believe: once I get there, it’ll be that much sweeter for the pain I had to endure along the way.