On the morning of September 11th, 2001, I went for a run. By the time I came home, everything had changed.

Today is September 11th, 2015.

This morning, I gave my kids extra long and tight hugs. I looked into their eyes and I told them I loved them. I made sure they heard it.

After I dropped them off at school, I stayed and watched my son on the playground. When he saw me, he ran over and jumped into my arms. I squeezed him and whispered in his ear. I’m proud of you. I know you’ll do something great today.

The bell rang and he lined up outside the door with his classmates and went inside the school.

And then I went for a run.

Just like I have gone for a run every single September 11th morning since 2001.

My September 11th run is my thanksgiving.

On this run, I give thanks for this big, beautiful life I live.

I give thanks for the people I love. I give thanks that they love me back.

I give thanks for time.

I give thanks for experiences.

I give thanks for opportunities.

I give thanks for the heroes. I give thanks for my heroes, especially the little ones.

I give thanks for plans and for goals and for dreams.

I give thanks for quiet. I give thanks for noise.

I give thanks for the reminder that everything that is precious needs to be handled with care.

I give thanks for hope.

I give thanks for all the good I see every single day.

On the morning of September 11th, 2001, I went for a run. By the time I came home, everything had changed.

Every year since that day, on the morning of September 11th, I go for a run.

And I give thanks for the chance to give thanks.

KID