I like to ride my bike with my son for cross training.  A couple weeks ago we went out riding and for whatever reason I let my husband talk me into taking his bike instead of my own.  Well making a long story short the chain fell off my husbands bike.  For the life of me I could not get it back on.  I had greese all over my hands (probably on my face to) and was ready to give up and walk home after about 15 min fighting with this chain.  Then this car drives by, stops and this guy gets out.  When he started walking toward us I got a bit scared and went to stand by my son.  I say a bit scared because I'm a small framed female, alone with a 7 yr old boy, its starting to get dark and on a road that is surrounded by corn fields.  It could of really been a bad situation.  Anyway the guy says he is a bike mechanic and doesn't mind helping me out.  Just like that we were on our way home and I couldn't have been more grateful.

When I ran a half marathon this past June I bonked (literally) at mile 13.0.  I had to stop to walk and couldn't walk a straight line.  A fellow runner took hold of me and held me up until a paramedic could come to me.  To this day I am grateful for that runner and I will never know who he is, but I am tearing up just thinking about him.  With only 100 meters left in the race, he was willing to stop until he knew I was cared for  - now that's a winner in my book!

p.s.  I never did cross the finish line, but that's another story