Editor’s note: There was recent, heavy news coverage about Virginia mother and avid runner Meg Cross Menzies who was doing everything “right” the day she was struck by a car and killed. She was running against traffic in a two-foot wide shoulder in the light of the 8 a.m. morning, when an SUV drifted over the line and struck her. The driver has since been arrested for involuntary manslaughter and DUI.

In response to Menzies’ death, the global running community organized “Meg’s Miles,” and asked runners to run, any distance, last Saturday, Jan. 18 in Menzies’ honor to raise awareness of drunk driving, texting and driving, and overall safety of runners and cyclists everywhere. The event’s Facebook page said, “…run for Meg. Take in the fresh air, be aware of your surroundings, keep your headphones on low, feel the heaviness in your lungs, the soreness in your legs, and be grateful for it–for all of it. The sweat, the pain, the wind, the cold…everything. Be grateful for that moment.” 

>We asked GOOD Morning Wilton writer Kristin Johnson, a passionate runner with numerous marathons and races under her belt, to write something about taking part in the effort. The beautiful part of New England where we live comes with windy roads, hills and sight lines that can sometimes put local runners in peril, so hopefully it’s a reminder for everyone to be careful–runners and drivers alike. But most of all, let Kristin’s beautiful, vulnerable words remind us all of the precious things in life. 

On Saturday, I was one of approximately 90,000 runners world-wide who pledged to run miles in honor of Meg Cross Menzies, a well-known runner and mother of three in the Richmond, Virginia area, who was killed when she was struck by an SUV while running. I didn’t know Meg, but as a fellow runner and mother, her story most definitely hit home.

And so, when I learned of the virtual event, Meg’s Miles (#megsmiles), I committed myself and another Wilton friend immediately. We had planned to meet Saturday morning to run 12 miles. Dedicating those miles to Meg felt right.

It was still dark at 6 a.m. when we met on Saturday. Cold, but not freezing, we fiddled with watches, adjusted headlamps and reflective vests, gave each other a high five and said, “For Meg,” and then, we were off.

Pre-dawn gave way to the light of day and our conversation, as it so often does on long runs, ran the gamut, careening from one topic to the next like the proverbial pinball machine.

My friend, as she has said many times before, as we rounded a particularly hilly bend, “Oh I love this house up here, I absolutely love it.” And she paused (as she usually does), as we crested the hill, appreciating the house in its full glory, “I mean, the view…can you imagine?”

I just barely choked out, “I know, I love it too.” My next words, a whisper, were, “I’m going to cry.”

The familiarity in that moment, in its comfort, stung so much, and the power of imagining, imagining any of it, simply took my breath away.

Without a doubt, life is capricious. And, sometimes gratitude comes, sending you to your knees, when you least expect it.

Life is short and there are no guarantees. God willing, I will be running with Meg in mind for a long time.