By John Brant. November’s Runner’s World. Exuberant elite runner gets hit by a car near the end of a training run. Fortunate to live, but quality of life radically altered.

An excerpt:

Jenny’s need for therapy far exceeds the funds available for it. Her recovery, moreover, has been slow and undramatic, and the family understands that the public’s interest will dwindle as time passes. “Jenny hasn’t made the big jump,” Peter acknowledges. “There is no feel-good hook to her story. Brain injuries need time. Long-term, it would be great to see her speaking for herself and telling her story in public. I think she would make an ideal spokesperson for understanding brain injuries.”

In the meantime, which might stretch indefinitely, Jenny’s family and friends make a point of living in the present. They rarely give way to exhaustion, or indulge in self-pity. “People assume that I must be angry,” Peter says. “They tell me, ‘You must be furious that one moment two years ago has led to all this misery, and messed up your sister’s life—and your life—forever.’ But I can honestly say that I don’t feel that way. I can’t afford to get angry because I’m too busy trying to figure my way through each day.”

Thanks to John Brant I regained some perspective as I read this story while cycling indoors M morning. Most writers would have tried to turn Jenny’s story into another feel-good redemption story. Brant’s approach works so well because it’s purposefully not beautifully written. He does not draw attention to himself, but keeps the focus on Jenny and her hardships, where it belongs.

Sunday/Monday I was beginning to feel sorry for myself for being behind on tasks, having too much to do, and not feeling much support. Brant, through his telling of Crain’s story, shook me out of my self-centeredness and helped me appreciate the tasks I’m behind on, the opportunities my work affords me, and the solid support I enjoy.

A month ago, a trooper friend and training partner got on some of us for running too cavalierly on the road. He was right, we have to be more careful. Any cyclist enthusiast knows someone who has been hit by a car. Some bounce back, but many are never the same, and too many die. Runners are at less risk, but as Jenny’s tragic story illustrates, no one can control for careless or reckless drivers.

As this year of cycling and running next to cars comes to end, I’m thankful to have remained upright. I appreciate my health, my family, my friends, my work, and I look forward to riding and running similar distances in 2010.

God willing that is.