By Staff
What was I doing here? I wondered on Sunday morning. It was cold, I was in shorts, and I was lined up with my dad at 8 a.m. to walk 6 miles around the Pentagon for the Marine Corps 10K.
The rest of our family was about a mile away, ready to start the Marine Corps Marathon - 26.2 miles around the monuments and landmarks of Washington, D.C.
And I was complaining.
Then I looked around at the rest of the field, at folks who were much more primed than I to run in their spandex and Nikes.
A girl's T-shirt ahead of me caught my eye.
All around us, folks were literally wearing their hearts on their sleeves. &#8220I'm running for my son Andy.” &#8220My fallen hero.” &#8220My angel.”
I thought about the six miles I would walk with my dad. It didn't seem quite so bad.
About midway through, we caught up with a Marine who had lost his leg in battle and was bouncing along on a prosthetic specially made for running. Just up ahead of them, a Marine was running with the parents of a friend who had died.
The six miles was not exactly fun. My feet hurt. The wind was fierce. The finish was at the top of a hill. We weren't last, but we weren't far away from the end of the line.
But it didn't matter. We could make it, just like all of the mothers and fathers and brothers and wives who needed to prove that life goes on - especially when you live your life as an example of love for those you have lost.
Kerry Whipple Bean is publisher of The Brewton Standard. She can be reached at 251-867-4876 or by e-mail at