03 Apr Pavement
Today I did something I haven’t done in probably three and a half years.
I ran.
Literally had to brush dust off of a dri-fit shirt and laced up some running shoes that should have been trashed a long, long time ago. I made it 28 minutes before having to take a break for a call from the transplant team. That was about 24 minutes longer than I thought I would make it.
But I ran.
It felt foreign at first. I was training for a marathon when I found out I was pregnant with Keegan. Ran regularly until I was eight months pregnant. Started running again as soon as he was home from the hospital, but as he got sicker, I couldn’t figure out how to work running in to our crazy schedule. I would get one in here or there over the years. But then Audrey came and Keegan got sicker. Excuses? Maybe. But not today.
Today, I ran.
I felt alone. Very alone without my Rusty. My faithful running partner for 8 years. The one who logged hundreds and hundreds of miles with me. The one who was always ready to hit the road or trail, no matter the time, weather, or how crappy the day had been. The one who tackled every brutal hill in middle Tennessee with a tail wagging with excitement. The one who urged me to go on when I felt I couldn’t. The one who made sure I was never alone. Today, for the first time since 2002, I ran alone.
But I ran.
My heart felt like fire. My legs felt like they would buckle at any minute. But every time I thought of giving up, I realized how it must feel to be my son every day. The pain and fatigue he carries with him daily but most often with a smile. The pokes, the tests, the fever, the hypertension, the intestinal failure. Rarely does he let it get the best of him. And he gave me courage to go on. To hold my shoulders back, loosen my hands, and feel the pavement beneath my feet.
And I ran.
My mind raced with all the uncertainties facing our family right now. But in that moment, all that mattered was to put one foot in front of the other. The only way we know how to go forward right now.
I ran.
And in the end, I felt better. And grateful. Because I could have been running away from everything, but instead, I ran home. Home to my precious Bug who inspires me every day to keep going. I felt energized to face the rest of the day, week, year. I sure hope I can keep it up. So maybe tomorrow I can also say….
I ran.