Brief Summary: A camp counselor for young people with health conditions learned to appreciate life more fully because of the attitude of one teenage girl with cystic fibrosis. The girl participated wholeheartedly in life until her death.

Full Text: COPYRIGHT Rodale Press Inc. 1995 My friend Kate died known year. I hadn't known her very long, about two years, I guess. But in that short time, she taught me more about running than I ever could have learned from other runners or from any "how-to" book on the market. That's because what she taught me had nothing to do with race strategy or training principles.

Kate wasn't a runner herself. Actually, during her last year, simply walking demanded an effort from Kate that would have shamed my best performance on the roads. She was born with cystic fibrosis, a genetic condition that causes the lungs to become coated with a thick mucus and interferes with the body's ability to use oxygen. CF often weakens the body, depleting its immune resources and becoming, in some cases, life-threatening. This unfortunately, was the case for my friend.

By watching the way Kate coped with her illness, I learned what it means to set goals and to strive for them, but that it's okay if you fall short. Kate also taught me a true appreciation for sacrifice, for never giving up until you have nothing left to give. And she showed me what it really means to deal with pain on a daily basis. It's not even remotely related to pulled muscles or leg cramps or soreness the morning after a hard run.

The summer I met Kate, she was holding her own, though she had to carry a small oxygen tank around in a backpack to use as needed, and she frequently had to stop to rest. She was 14 that year and a veteran of the summer camp where I was working - a camp for kids who had special health needs. As I came to know Kate better, I marveled at positive attitude and her determination to enjoy every minute of every day.

Often I would get back from my morning run in time to do Kate's physical therapy, which included about 45 minutes of rather hard pounding on her back and chest to loosen the mucus. That summer my running was going well, and I was quite proud of how hard I was working at it. But spending morning with Kate soon made me realize that my pride was sadly misplaced.

After all, no matter how much I pushed myself, no matter how much I was "hurting," my run each morning was a choice - an opportunity to become better, to improve my conditioning. For Kate, the effort just to get up and walk to the treatment room each morning for 45 minutes of therapy was a necessity - the first step in a daily struggle to, quite simply, prolong her life.

By the following summer, Kate's last her condition had worsened. Her part-time dependence on oxygen had become permanent, and she had developed medication-induced diabetes. But this was a special summer for Kate. She was now 15 and old enough to be a Blazer. Blazers are the only campers allowed to leave for two- and three-day trips, which physically demand more than what she was accustomed to.

We worried that she couldn't handle these trips, but somehow she managed, smiling all the way. She loved it all - even the mosquitoes, hiking in the rain, camping in the mud - because it meant that she was out there, doing it

Kate died eight months later. Shortly before she died, she wrote an essay entitled "Carpe Diem" (Seize the Day). In it she explained that dealing with cystic fibrosis had brought her, rather than sadness, an appreciation for the joy that is in each day and how it is ours for the taking.

The time I spent with Kate, and our friendship, caused me to take another look at my running and reach a new realization: that while I shouldn't overemphasize its importance, I do greatly enjoy it And Kate taught me that whatever brings joy to your life - as running does to mine - must be grasped fully. It must be seized and appreciated for its worth, otherwise there is no sense to fife.

Dave Langlais has worked for the past four years at Camp Holiday Trails in Charlottesville, Virginia. He is currently writing a book on the abuse of children in sports.