It’s times like tonight that I honestly wish I was more like my mother. I miss her more than words can ever say.
I feel lost. I feel scared. I feel stuck. I feel helpless.
And I know exactly what she would say if she would be here now.
She’d say “Just pray, baby. God is good.”
A few weeks ago, I ran the Fiesta Marathon. This marathon is the annual fund raiser for Palmer Drug Abuse Program (which is VERY close to my heart) and was the first race I had run last year. I had decided to make this run personal for me because it wasn’t cancer related… At first. Just before the race, a tragedy occurred. 26 people were murdered – many of them children. I thought to myself, I’ll run a mile for each life lost. And when I think about giving up… I’ll think of their families to push me to keep going.
And then I heard what another team mate was doing. He carried a decorated golf ball for Ben Karam the whole way through. After the race, he would present the ball to Ben. I loved the idea and Ben was looking forward to it!
So how would I do this? There’s 26 miles in a marathon. If I dedicate one mile for each life lost and one mile in prayer for Ben… That would mean I’d have to run 27 miles!!!
Those of you who ran the Fiesta can already tell how this story ends š
The volunteers misdirected the first few runners in the wrong direction… Adding 1.4 more miles than we were supposed to run. Yep! I ran 27 miles for all the right reasons.
Today, that extra mile and the prayer that went with it was answered…
Ben is home. He is now in “maintenance” mode. God is good all the time!!!
And yes, I have the decorated ball still that will continue to run with me at Herothon in San Antonio and Ben is my Honored Hero.
Today I got my Encore medal from the Rock N Roll Marathon for completing more than one marathon this year. It’s beautiful… Sparkly…. And of course, predictably with orange letters š
It’s a bittersweet reward. Still no cure.
My year started off with an adventure already! What started off as a 20-mile easy bike ride with some of the cyclepaths through Sharyland Plantation down to Granjeno and back up to Mission Trails ended up with a man hunt and big hugs.
I’m still not sure of what I can really do on a bike. I just got a Garmin and was curious to see how far I’ve come with the spin classes. We had a couple of experienced century riders, another beginner like me and another experienced rider but on a MTB. We took things really slow in the beginning until we hit military. That’s when they told me I should test my legs and give it all I’ve got.
I took a deep breath, pushed into the toughest gear and began my climb… hot dang! I was going fast! It felt great!!! And then I got spooked because I knew I had to stop soon for the light. The series of little sprints felt good… But I needed to make sure I can handle the distance.
I do wish I could listen to music when I ride. I’ve always relied on music, rhythm and lyrics to keep my mind off of any pain that I have in me. Cycling forces me to focus on it. I must listen for traffic, look for pot holes, feel for balance… Where’s the escape I’ve been used to with running? There’s no room to zone out. You must focus and you must address the pain.
For a moment during today’s ride – the first of 2013 – I wanted to call it in and go escape running into the trails nearby. I had my running shoes on… It would be easy. But thats what it would be.. An easy escape.
Momma didn’t take the easy way. She did things the right way even when it was hard, when it was painful. She didn’t ask for pain medication if she knew she could bear through it.
What gives me the right – the excuse – to think I can get away with the easy way out? Ya, that’s right.
So on that last attempt… I dropped them all in my familiar overcast cloud that my weather angels always seem to provide when I know they’re watching over me.
Barely breathing…my angels made sure my next adventure that day ended in hugs and kisses.
Happy New Year!
Last year, I had just begun to run… EVER. No, seriously! I was never in track in high school or college, never even jogged… shoot, in fact I even went so far as to WORK for the University just so I could get a teacher’s parking permit and park closer to school so I didn’t have to walk so far!!!
I was one of the last to come in at last year’s Resolution Run at Bill Schupp Park. I knew almost no one there. But that was a promise that I made to myself. It was, after all, a RESOLUTION. I don’t think I’ve ever kept a resolution promise before in my life. They usually get “forgotten” around April of that same year. But this year, I stuck it out. And I returned…
I ran with a person who also is making that same promise to herself. I ran with her this morning to pace her and I admit, I did push her a bit more than I pushed the other beginners that I’ve run with only because I truly believe that she can handle more than others can. She reminds me a lot of myself.
Yes, that’s a good thing.
She finished in 37 minutes.
Not bad for her first 5k! It was her PR. So all this week I’ve witnessed 5 PRs for others. I’m thinking it’s time to make one of my own. What’s stopping me? Why are my legs so heavy now? I don’t understand.
I need to snap out of it. QUICK!
And just when I began to catch myself going into that downward spiral of “oh poor Myssie”, I took a look around the park at all the smiling faces that I got to know over this last year. Many are the same people that were there last year. Everyone has come so very far in their own journeys. And that’s when I remembered… So have I.
So even if I never “snap out of it”, I must remember today and the distance one year makes in my heart. That’s my PR.
Hours before the sum comes up, my shoes lace up and I begin my zombie jog along the 2nd street trail with a new troop of beginner runners. I thought back to where I was a year ago and halfway through my run a new girl asks what my interval was and if she can join me. I explain that I run to the beat of the music and reduce pace at alternating light poles (since I tend to swell up when I stop). I saw the look in her face as she realized that if she didn’t run with me, she was on her own. Reluctantly she joined up. Her face was flushed as she tried to keep up so I quietly reduced my speed and tried to keep things positive and told her not to worry about holding me back. I could tell she felt guilty about that. When she told me that this run would be her PR, I think I jumped for joy and told her I wouldn’t leave her. The joy I get from being a part of someone else’s “impossibles” is sublime. I didn’t have to say anything or do anything… She pushed herself to keep up with me and she did it!!!
Nothing is impossible if you believe in yourself and you’re with people who believe in you.
RunMyssieRun 