I sit here this morning, one week away from the Shamrock Marathon. Yesterday was the first Saturday in who knows how long that I didn't run. I watched Ryan from the window as he warmed up and started off on his last long run before the race, feeling like the sick kid watching all of her neighborhood friends play outside. I wanted to run so badly, but I've made the decision to rest my leg until the race and I'm going to have to stick to it.
I have been struggling to figure out how my training had gone so smoothly for so long, only to have the bottom drop out two weeks before the race. It's been frustrating as hell. The timing of this setback with my leg has really messed with my head. It's been a time of soul searching, and the following quote has given me perspective:
A year ago, I had no desire to run a marathon. They're for crazy people, and like the cheesy t-shirts and memes say, I was only half crazy.
But somehow over the next few months, Ryan and I convinced ourselves that we had to do a full at some point in our lives. We thought about doing one to celebrate our 40th birthdays, but we have several more years before that milestone (thank you very much!), and life has taught us that a lot can happen in just a few years' time, so the time to do it was now. So we signed up for the Shamrock Marathon sometime last summer, with March 16th being an eternity away, merrily oblivious to the circumstances we'd be training through.
In late October, Ryan's mom was diagnosed with advanced cancer of the liver. We've spent the past four months since then helping his dad care for her and making sure she was surrounded by the grandkids she adored as much as possible in her final days. We watched this ray of light of a woman suffer immensely, smile through her pain, and comfort those around her, week in and week out.
Peggy's suffering ended when she passed away on Wednesday, and the days since have been a whirlwind. Convincing myself that everything happens for a reason has led me to the following conclusions:
- The timing of my injury was good, not bad. As my runner friends have told me, I've put in the hard work and this is the time to let my body rest.
- Not being able to get treatment on Friday because my therapist was sick was good, not bad. With my mother-in-law's wake being Friday night, I simply did not have enough minutes in the day to have needles stuck in my butt, and all the sitting in the car and standing at the wake I'd be doing would have been counterproductive to treatment anyway.
- The timing of Peggy's death was good, not bad. If she hung on for another week, we would have been running this race the day after her funeral. She has been our biggest cheerleader through our training, and even in death, she was setting us up for success.
I thought of Peggy during literally every single training run. I told myself that if she can go through what she's going through with a smile on her face, I can certainly push through this next 800 into the wind. I can certainly push through a dozen miles in the snow. I can certainly push through 20 miles on a beautiful day. These self-inflicted challenges are a walk in the park compared to her battle, and I will be grateful I am alive and well enough to take them on. They are nothing compared to seeing my husband lose his mother. Nothing compared to telling my children their Grandmommy died. Nothing compared to feeling my 7 year old's little body shake with sobs at her grandmother's funeral. Nothing compared to the heartbreak my father-in-law is living with after losing his best friend and dance partner.
I have Peggy to thank for so much of the happiness I have in my life. Her son brings sunshine into my life every single day, and it radiates right down to my children, who share Peggy's bright blue eyes and infectious smile. I'm sure a 5-foot liberal-minded Yankee isn't who she would have chosen for her son to marry, but she welcomed me into her family and her heart immediately. When introducing me to others, she'd say I was her daughter, never her daughter-in-law, sometimes even in front of my own mother! She spoiled my children rotten with cheddar bunnies, trips to the aquarium, and birthday celebrations that made Santa feel the need to step up his game. My heart breaks to think about the void we'll all feel going forward, but we'll just keep going forward.
During our many visits with Peggy over the past few months, I would always massage her feet. At first it was to help get rid of the edema she had, and later on it was simply because it was one of the few things being done to her body that actually felt good. She would tell me she could feel her numb, ice cold feet come alive when I rubbed them, and that it felt like heaven. Ryan was with her when she died, and minutes before he called me with the news, my feet were ice cold and both of my big toes felt numb. Coincidence? Who knows. But it has me wondering what could happen on race day to show me she's cheering me on.
A year ago, I had no desire to run a marathon. They're for crazy people, and like the cheesy t-shirts and memes say, I was only half crazy.
But somehow over the next few months, Ryan and I convinced ourselves that we had to do a full at some point in our lives. We thought about doing one to celebrate our 40th birthdays, but we have several more years before that milestone (thank you very much!), and life has taught us that a lot can happen in just a few years' time, so the time to do it was now. So we signed up for the Shamrock Marathon sometime last summer, with March 16th being an eternity away, merrily oblivious to the circumstances we'd be training through.
In late October, Ryan's mom was diagnosed with advanced cancer of the liver. We've spent the past four months since then helping his dad care for her and making sure she was surrounded by the grandkids she adored as much as possible in her final days. We watched this ray of light of a woman suffer immensely, smile through her pain, and comfort those around her, week in and week out.
Peggy's suffering ended when she passed away on Wednesday, and the days since have been a whirlwind. Convincing myself that everything happens for a reason has led me to the following conclusions:
- The timing of my injury was good, not bad. As my runner friends have told me, I've put in the hard work and this is the time to let my body rest.
- Not being able to get treatment on Friday because my therapist was sick was good, not bad. With my mother-in-law's wake being Friday night, I simply did not have enough minutes in the day to have needles stuck in my butt, and all the sitting in the car and standing at the wake I'd be doing would have been counterproductive to treatment anyway.
- The timing of Peggy's death was good, not bad. If she hung on for another week, we would have been running this race the day after her funeral. She has been our biggest cheerleader through our training, and even in death, she was setting us up for success.
I thought of Peggy during literally every single training run. I told myself that if she can go through what she's going through with a smile on her face, I can certainly push through this next 800 into the wind. I can certainly push through a dozen miles in the snow. I can certainly push through 20 miles on a beautiful day. These self-inflicted challenges are a walk in the park compared to her battle, and I will be grateful I am alive and well enough to take them on. They are nothing compared to seeing my husband lose his mother. Nothing compared to telling my children their Grandmommy died. Nothing compared to feeling my 7 year old's little body shake with sobs at her grandmother's funeral. Nothing compared to the heartbreak my father-in-law is living with after losing his best friend and dance partner.
I have Peggy to thank for so much of the happiness I have in my life. Her son brings sunshine into my life every single day, and it radiates right down to my children, who share Peggy's bright blue eyes and infectious smile. I'm sure a 5-foot liberal-minded Yankee isn't who she would have chosen for her son to marry, but she welcomed me into her family and her heart immediately. When introducing me to others, she'd say I was her daughter, never her daughter-in-law, sometimes even in front of my own mother! She spoiled my children rotten with cheddar bunnies, trips to the aquarium, and birthday celebrations that made Santa feel the need to step up his game. My heart breaks to think about the void we'll all feel going forward, but we'll just keep going forward.
During our many visits with Peggy over the past few months, I would always massage her feet. At first it was to help get rid of the edema she had, and later on it was simply because it was one of the few things being done to her body that actually felt good. She would tell me she could feel her numb, ice cold feet come alive when I rubbed them, and that it felt like heaven. Ryan was with her when she died, and minutes before he called me with the news, my feet were ice cold and both of my big toes felt numb. Coincidence? Who knows. But it has me wondering what could happen on race day to show me she's cheering me on.
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