This is the face that will get me through the next week.
This is it. The final countdown. *cue music*
When I first decided to run this year, I thought I would try to set a new PB. I was going to train harder. I was going to be fierce.
The weather is just now starting to cooperate, though, and as such I’ve resigned myself to treadmill running. I don’t feel prepared.
Now, this is my own fault. I should have run more often. I should have MADE myself go to the gym. But you know what? While setting a new PB would have been nice, I’ve realized that’s not what this has been about.
This has been about healing and hope for me.
As I walked into the gym today, I thought back to the day I finally signed up.
I had been sick of crying. Sick of sleepless nights. Sick of constantly wanting to shut out everything around me.
To say I was in a bad place is putting it mildly. I had just lost one of the most important people in my life. I was grieving, All of this was normal.
But I was done with it. I wanted to be done with it and I didn’t know any way to cope except to throw myself into something. Those of you who know me might have realized that I’m sort of an all or nothing type of person. It was time to do it all.
That first run was such a relief. Signing up for the race was a relief. I was now obligated to do something. I had a purpose, and that was trying to prevent others from having to deal with everything I was dealing with.
The combination of physical exertion and the mental efforts of coordinating fundraising and working on this blog has done more for me than any therapist could have. I’ll never be fully healed, but I’m definitely mending.
Every time I run, I know that Lindsey is with me. I know that she’s proud of the money we’ve raised and all of our efforts. And I know that she’ll be with me on Sunday. She’s always with me. For that I am eternally grateful.
-Tish