Sunday, March 16, 2014

March 15, 2014- Eighteen Miles

I don’t know why the stars didn’t align properly so I could get me a good night sleep, but something was out of whack because I lay awake surfing what felt like a caffeine wave (it wasn’t), and then come four in the morning my eyes popped open.  Bing.  All done sleepin’.  Of course when the alarm goes off at seven-fifteen my body is finally primed and ready to get on board and remember how it’s done.  Such is life.  Ain’t it always the way.    
            I could use all the shut-eye I could get, because I had the big eighteen mile run today.  Jim and I had discussed it and he was going to join me later with his bike for at least the last six-mile loop around the lake.  But when I arrived at the Stony Creek course at 8:15 I texted him and told him not to come, it was so windy and cold; it would have been absolutely miserable riding a bike for well over an hour-especially when it’s not like he would be going all out and working up a huge sweat to keep himself warm.
            So when I took off and thought about running for three hours by myself, today it made me lonely.  It is so much easier to have the distraction of a friend.  I guess I don’t have any, well, any that are stupid enough to go out on a Saturday morning in the blistering cold and run for three miserable hours.  I thought I could latch on to two girls who were just starting out as I was making my way around the loop for a second time, heading into my mile seven.  But I came up behind them and tried to make some small talk and I think I creeped them out- this older chick right on their heels, kind of invading their personal space, (maybe a bit too needy?) so after a couple miles they turned around to head back.  Bummer too because they were running wind interference for me, and that section of road that crosses over where one lake meets up with another is like a Nassau-training wind tunnel, and I had to hunker down that much more in my pathetic, abandoned state.  Sigh. 
            It was about a mile later that I saw him ahead, my husband, coming on his bike.  Of course that got me all emotional- and crying and running do not mix, I start to hyperventilate.  I kept it together though but when he reached me saw I was emotional and was worried about my knees; I told them they were great.  Everything was great.  I really meant it too. 
            I remember the moment when the person I looked to when I was in scary, dire pain switched from my mother to my husband.  It was in the delivery room and the birth of our first child.  Every doctor’s shot and trauma for most of my life could only be comforted by my mommy (and daddy); she was the one that I trusted to reassure me, a tall order and she always came through.  But in that childbirth experience I learned that when my husband had to step out to get something to eat after about twelve hours of hand holding and support the pain and stress grew when my mother, my sweet mommy, sat with me. 
            I always call him my rock man and right away as he rolled along beside me I told him to tell me a story, talk to me to help distract the pain.  He chose instead to come up with his typical quirky nothings to get me laughing, another thing that does not help when systems are so incredibly taxed.  He kept singing the ridiculously stupid song from The Lego Movie: “Everything is Awesome”. 
            God sure knew what He was doing when He put us two knuckleheads together because I love to laugh.  I really do.  I love being happy, and my husband is the king of comedy in our own special silly world.  As I have said many times, he’s the ying to my yang- together we’re a couple of ying-yangs but somehow we make it work.    
            I finished my eighteen very strong, my legs were noodles, my tailbone area killing me but I felt really good about it.  So grateful, so incredibly grateful to God for giving me the ability one more time to go outside and run.  So grateful that the potential deal-breaker hips, and knees and back have been non-issues!  That is so incredible!  Hooray for Teresa’s body!     
            I told my husband later in the day as we were driving to spend time with brother KC and Jenny, son Mitchell, and new baby Jack that there is such a freedom in that accomplishment.  To set that bar up there and reach it always feels good.  He told me yes, and if we lived in some remote village, and they needed someone to get that case of serum to the kids with Yellow Fever, I would be able to run those eighteen miles and save the whole town.
            I corrected and said that maybe I could carry a couple vials, but the rest of the kids are screwed because there was no way I could heft a whole case.  He said it was better than nothing, as he would have been dead in the woods, too tired to go on. 
            I can still run eighteen miles.  So I have that going for me.  Which is nice.  

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