by Adina Brenner ‘20

The other day I woke up to one of the loudest and most annoying sounds known to kids today … my mother vacuuming. You might’ve assumed I meant my alarm, but due to the current circumstances, that hadn’t been set to wake me up in quite a while. After numerous unsuccessful attempts of trying to fall back to sleep, I angrily stumbled out of bed, staggered down the stairs and informed my mother that I found it extremely disrespectful and unnecessary to use such a noisy appliance during a time when people are supposed to be sleeping. To my surprise, my mother answered me with the simple point of a finger at the clock above the stove. I rubbed my eyes and looked at the time to embarrassingly discover it was three in the afternoon. At that moment, I knew it was time for me to make a massive change and take control of this quarantine. 

The next morning, I believe the date was March 19, I woke up to a more proper sound at a more proper time. At 8:30 a.m., rather than press snooze on one of my least favorite objects like I usually would, I slowly but surely rose from my bed. As I took each step closer and closer to the door of my room, I couldn’t help but occasionally glance back at the most warm, secure, and comfortable place in my house calling out to me. Although it was hard, I fought the urge of jumping right back under the covers and decided to get dressed. I threw on my cutest pair of workout leggings and matching top (because obviously if you have a matching set you can’t just wear one part of it DUH) and grabbed my tennis shoes. I then proceeded to sprint downstairs (this time for a reason that wasn’t arguing with my mom) and stomp out the front door with my hopeful smile and determined eyes. That’s right, everyone. I VOLUNTARILY decided to go on a run around my neighborhood. Although, run may be a strong word in this scenario. Instead, let’s call it a fast-paced walk. After lots of huffing and puffing due to low endurance (I’m talking like big bad wolf level huff and puff), I finally arrived back at my house. That day, I traveled one mile in 13 minutes. 

In the following days, I continued to wake up pretty early, finally getting into a new routine. Although my mile time hovered around the same number and even sometimes went over, I was determined to not give up. I decided the only way to lower my time would be to make a goal for myself. For example, my original goal was to have a time under 12 minutes. Once I reached said goal, I’d create another to achieve and so on and so forth. 

By March 29, my mile time had dropped to nine minutes and six seconds. I continued to persevere for another few days in hopes I could get it down to eight minutes and thirty seconds or possibly even just eight minutes. Unfortunately, rather than positively continue my progress, during those few days, my mile time began to increase again. 

After what felt like an intense run on April 6, I checked my phone and sadly was greeted with a ten-minute time. A huge feeling of discouragement and hopelessness fell over me in that instant. I began wondering what the point was of putting in hard work just to be met with failure in the end. Right at that moment I was questioning whether or not to call it quits, I looked up to see something quite out of the ordinary. Now what I’m about to say may cause you to worry about the status of my sanity but I assure you I can explain. When I looked up, I saw … Santa Claus running across the street from me. That’s right, folks. You heard me. Santa Claus. Or as he prefers to be called, Santa Steve. Santa Steve is an older man known throughout the small town of Olney, Maryland for running through practically every neighborhood and of course, for his santa-like beard and hat. If you live in Olney, you may be familiar with his charity work, frequently participating in local fundraising events and putting smiles on the faces of children all over town. Anyway, after seeing Santa Steve running with ease and having a great time doing it, I was inspired to keep working toward my goal (Thanks, Santa!). Since then, I have been trying my very best to run at least a mile everyday (huffing and puffing included, of course). 

I’ve certainly been taught a very important lesson during this quarantine that I would love to share with those who read this: Although times may be exceptionally tough right now, we have to remember to stay strong and never stop looking for the light at the end of the tunnel. No matter what it may be that you are trying to accomplish, if you ever begin to lose sight of your goal, just look around, I’m sure you will discover a source of inspiration.