I ran the half marathon. I did it. And enough hours have passed that I look back at it with fondness and not the doubt and pain I felt at mile 12. I’ve got the running bug now, it’s true. I am already planning that next race silently in my head.
Training takes time and planning. Sacrifice of our time and those that help us get there. The five Sunday runs meant when I got up and slithered oh so quietly out of bed so I didn’t wake the baby but she woke up anyways, Russ was up then too- no choice. He did it without complaint. The last 11 mile run put me down for the day. I ached. But no one said a word and at some point I asked him if was proud of me. He said of course, I was doing something that took discipline and that meant something. Our mile 12 run was poorly planned by me and I had to move our meeting time. That meant more accommodating and tighter meetingtimes for everyone the rest of the day, but it was our last run and I was grateful we made it work and to all that helped that happen.
Mile three on race day I got a side cramp. But, I knew I was coming up on Childrens Champion Lauren, and I needed to clap her hand. I felt overwhelmed and I felt my chest tighten and my breath disappear into heaves. I was about to sob. Then I saw her and I was renewed. Her daddy called her beautiful and she was. One hand clap later and I was on the low grade upward hill toward mile four and five. Mile six was a bathroom break and removal of the tank top undershirt. Sorry for the litter Cbus- I do love you. Mile seven stalled. And feeling the moment my L knew it and played the SONG. It worked and I was back on- motivated. Mile 8 and 9 were cold but fine. L took a picture of Nationwide Hospital and I knew if I looked I’d lose the focus. Mile 10 I saw my family. I stopped. I hugged. I kissed. And then pulling everything I had to walk away I found that I just wanted to stop and go back. Embrace them and go home. I thought I’d be motivated and I was, but not to run but to love all I had on them. My heart was so full. I walked on. It took me a few to recover and I look the girls in the eyes and said go on. I put my headphones in. I stretched. I regrouped. And I struggled with all my might to not cry. Then I ran. I saw the girls as I rounded the corner and I felt such happiness. They waited. Where you go I go. Mile 12 was rough. The bitter cold was back and a mile long low grade hill up zapped my spirit. My hip hurt, my knee hurt. My ego hurt. In true motivation fashion my L gave instructions and I cried I can’t. She yelled yes you can. You will never say you can’t to Marley. It all burned and froze at the same time with the whipping wind. I saw Marley at the angiogram. I had carried her back to the procedure and Russ had to go to the waiting room. They said they were ready and I laid her down. She struggled and cried as they held the strawberry flavored mask hard against her mouth and nose. She went out cold. They said okay Momma and it was time to go. I had been holding Roo, her right hand. I bent down and kissed her hand. And I held it there paralyzed to move. I had forgot to pray and I held it there pleading to my God to have blood flow that our second Dr could work with. I heard them say it was time and I just couldn’t let go. I felt their hand on my shoulder and I was frozen. Dear God, it hurt my soul. I knew she was going to have pain and I was crushed. How I couldn’t protect her or will this away. We were going to find out what we were working with and I was scared. Would I ever tell her she can’t? Never. Would I let her give up? Not one chance. Would I give up? I felt pain.
At close to the end of the race I thought I felt relief, but the finish line wasn’t in sight and I was spent. I stayed the course, but had nothing left to sprint with. I did give one extra kick when I saw the clock at 2 hours 29 minutes and 45 seconds. I would not end past 2.30! My actual time was 2 hours 14 minutes and 34 seconds. And it was complete. In an anticlimactic moment it was finished. Keep walking. I got a medal and I admit I felt proud. I got a metallic blanket and bag and a boatload of food that I was a bit giddy for. I got my medal engraved and a finisher T-shirt. I picked up my checked bag and said our goodbyes and walked on to meet my family that had been waiting on the other side to take me home.
The car was far away, a bit disheartening, but a quick stop at the renaissance and my loving Hubs went on to the car and picked us up. Glorious. When I met back up with my cousins to get my car I felt sad as I wanted to hang on to that moment together for as long as I could. We went through something together and I loved them all the more for it. My S had written a letter to Marley and I knew their love for this little girl had changed them too.
Tonight I sensed her frustration for the first time that she actually knew what it was. A challenge that she was trying to pick up both mouse controls from our computers and their slick sides kept plopping right out. She was mad. I looked down at her at my feet beside my computer that I was working on and felt heartache. I felt this blog post well up within me and I knew I had to get it out. I can’t say why I felt the need to write about it, expose such intimate moments of our life, but I saw the reflection of our tiny moments and it felt right. She moved on angry she hadn’t been successful and promptly scootched over to the printer and hit the off button. I didn’t get frustrated this time, I got up and got my camera and took a picture of the moment I knew that I would be her eternal cheerleader forever more. Thank you God for this task.
Training takes time and planning. Sacrifice of our time and those that help us get there. The five Sunday runs meant when I got up and slithered oh so quietly out of bed so I didn’t wake the baby but she woke up anyways, Russ was up then too- no choice. He did it without complaint. The last 11 mile run put me down for the day. I ached. But no one said a word and at some point I asked him if was proud of me. He said of course, I was doing something that took discipline and that meant something. Our mile 12 run was poorly planned by me and I had to move our meeting time. That meant more accommodating and tighter meetingtimes for everyone the rest of the day, but it was our last run and I was grateful we made it work and to all that helped that happen.
Mile three on race day I got a side cramp. But, I knew I was coming up on Childrens Champion Lauren, and I needed to clap her hand. I felt overwhelmed and I felt my chest tighten and my breath disappear into heaves. I was about to sob. Then I saw her and I was renewed. Her daddy called her beautiful and she was. One hand clap later and I was on the low grade upward hill toward mile four and five. Mile six was a bathroom break and removal of the tank top undershirt. Sorry for the litter Cbus- I do love you. Mile seven stalled. And feeling the moment my L knew it and played the SONG. It worked and I was back on- motivated. Mile 8 and 9 were cold but fine. L took a picture of Nationwide Hospital and I knew if I looked I’d lose the focus. Mile 10 I saw my family. I stopped. I hugged. I kissed. And then pulling everything I had to walk away I found that I just wanted to stop and go back. Embrace them and go home. I thought I’d be motivated and I was, but not to run but to love all I had on them. My heart was so full. I walked on. It took me a few to recover and I look the girls in the eyes and said go on. I put my headphones in. I stretched. I regrouped. And I struggled with all my might to not cry. Then I ran. I saw the girls as I rounded the corner and I felt such happiness. They waited. Where you go I go. Mile 12 was rough. The bitter cold was back and a mile long low grade hill up zapped my spirit. My hip hurt, my knee hurt. My ego hurt. In true motivation fashion my L gave instructions and I cried I can’t. She yelled yes you can. You will never say you can’t to Marley. It all burned and froze at the same time with the whipping wind. I saw Marley at the angiogram. I had carried her back to the procedure and Russ had to go to the waiting room. They said they were ready and I laid her down. She struggled and cried as they held the strawberry flavored mask hard against her mouth and nose. She went out cold. They said okay Momma and it was time to go. I had been holding Roo, her right hand. I bent down and kissed her hand. And I held it there paralyzed to move. I had forgot to pray and I held it there pleading to my God to have blood flow that our second Dr could work with. I heard them say it was time and I just couldn’t let go. I felt their hand on my shoulder and I was frozen. Dear God, it hurt my soul. I knew she was going to have pain and I was crushed. How I couldn’t protect her or will this away. We were going to find out what we were working with and I was scared. Would I ever tell her she can’t? Never. Would I let her give up? Not one chance. Would I give up? I felt pain.
At close to the end of the race I thought I felt relief, but the finish line wasn’t in sight and I was spent. I stayed the course, but had nothing left to sprint with. I did give one extra kick when I saw the clock at 2 hours 29 minutes and 45 seconds. I would not end past 2.30! My actual time was 2 hours 14 minutes and 34 seconds. And it was complete. In an anticlimactic moment it was finished. Keep walking. I got a medal and I admit I felt proud. I got a metallic blanket and bag and a boatload of food that I was a bit giddy for. I got my medal engraved and a finisher T-shirt. I picked up my checked bag and said our goodbyes and walked on to meet my family that had been waiting on the other side to take me home.
The car was far away, a bit disheartening, but a quick stop at the renaissance and my loving Hubs went on to the car and picked us up. Glorious. When I met back up with my cousins to get my car I felt sad as I wanted to hang on to that moment together for as long as I could. We went through something together and I loved them all the more for it. My S had written a letter to Marley and I knew their love for this little girl had changed them too.
Tonight I sensed her frustration for the first time that she actually knew what it was. A challenge that she was trying to pick up both mouse controls from our computers and their slick sides kept plopping right out. She was mad. I looked down at her at my feet beside my computer that I was working on and felt heartache. I felt this blog post well up within me and I knew I had to get it out. I can’t say why I felt the need to write about it, expose such intimate moments of our life, but I saw the reflection of our tiny moments and it felt right. She moved on angry she hadn’t been successful and promptly scootched over to the printer and hit the off button. I didn’t get frustrated this time, I got up and got my camera and took a picture of the moment I knew that I would be her eternal cheerleader forever more. Thank you God for this task.
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