I'm going to try to briefly provide a little background of my life and at some point I'll write some blog posts that go more in depth about my journey. I've never been an athletic person and I was always the last chosen for teams in gym class. Running was a nightmare for me. My knees always bothered me and I was forever turning ankles as a teen. I briefly tried to start running in junior high and ran a few 5k races but didn't live somewhere that I could easily go out for a run and those were the days long before the internet and being able to find any running advice so that was short-lived.
I grew up and throughout the years I'd flirt with the idea of running. I had a lot of ups and downs with my weight and anytime I needed to drop some weight I'd power-walk. I'd put my mixed tapes in my walkman and walk 3-4 miles most days. About six weeks before my wedding I decided I wanted to start running. I headed out to the track at the school near our house and I'd walk a lap and run a lap and I don't know how many miles I did that day but I was pleased. I went to work the next day and I squatted down to do something and when I stood up my knee popped really loudly and I was in pain. My husband to be had to pick me up and take me to the emergency room and I ended up on crutches.
Four and a half years ago I decided I was getting fit and working hard and wanted to come up with a big, scary goal and do a sprint triathlon. I knew I needed to at least try to figure out this running thing so I started slow and ran my first 5k (as an adult) in July of 2016. I did that sprint triathlon and someday soon I'll write a post about that experience. Then in December of that year I decided that I was going to sign up to run the Pittsburgh Half Marathon in May of 2017. I ran that 5k in July and kept running and ran a few more races including a 7:00 am 5k on Thanksgiving Day. I was learning that my body could do it and that I really enjoyed running.
In the summer of 2016 my son had a series of odd symptoms (sleeping a lot, complaining of leg pain, random headaches and vomiting spells). I spent a lot of time on the phone with our pediatrician trying to figure out what was going on with him.
Then in early January of 2017 my he woke up complaining of abdominal pain with very obvious swelling in the lower right side of his belly. We rushed off to the emergency room thinking he had appendicitis. I expected him to be whisked off to surgery and be in for a day or two and then he'd be fine. If only it had been that simple.
That emergency room visit kicked off a two week nightmare of tests, lab work, hospital stays, a lot of arguing with doctors and residents and a lot of crying both from my son and myself. I knew there was something very wrong but the doctors kept chalking it up to him being constipated. Two weeks from that initial ER visit he had spinal cord surgery. While we were in the pre-op area we were informed that the goal of surgery was so that he could maintain his ability to walk but that he would never regain bowel or bladder function and would rely on catheters and enemas for the rest of his life in order to empty them.
During our three weeks in and out of the hospital I got to run once or twice, there was a lot of emotional eating and there were evenings spent in the enormous waiting area in the outpatient waiting area power-walking with earbuds in.
When we came home I was an emotional mess. I was stuck in the anger stage of grieving. I cried a lot, I wanted to smash things and instead I ran. At that point it was actually the time to start my half marathon training plan. I would go out for my runs and just let my mind empty. Some days the tears flowed freely down my cheeks while I ran and my soul would feel cleansed and ready to walk back into my house and be strong for my little boy. I ran the half and kept on running. It's been almost four years since all of that happened and some days I run and find the rhythm of my feet hitting the pavement brings up emotions I'm still processing from those days. Each year as we approach the anniversary of those hospital stays I find that my runs become even more important for me.
In September of 2018 my son was admitted to the hospital again for major abdominal surgery. We knew we would be there for 10-14 days and that the surgery would take an entire day. We felt so prepared for what to expect because our doctors and nurses were amazing. They answered all of our questions patiently and explained so well for us what to expect. No matter how prepared you feel for something major like this there is still fear. As a parent taking your child for a major surgery that's technically "elective" feels like one of the scariest things you can do.
Staying with your child in the hospital can feel so isolating so once again I turned to running. I had all my gear packed and figured out some routes to run during his stay. The morning of his surgery we went down to pre-op and got him settled, then my family and I went to get some breakfast and they said we'd get our first update around the 2 hour mark so once we got that update I laced up my shoes and headed outside for some sunshine, fresh air and time to think and ran 3 hot and sweaty miles. During that stay any evening that someone came to visit I took advantage of having company for him and headed out for a run. When we came home I did a lot of treadmill running so that I could be close to him but it once again helped me so much.
In June of 2019 I went out for a run on a gorgeous early summer evening. I came home and a few minutes later my phone rang and when I answered it my sister was on the other line and she was crying and I could barely understand the words she was speaking to me as she told me my grandmother had passed away.
My grandma was my last living grandparent. She was someone who was so strong and she was described by so many people as a spitfire and somehow I thought she'd live forever. Over the next few days as funeral arrangements were made and family came into town I once again sought solace in the run. I ran before we went to the funeral.
And then 2020 rolled around. This has been such a hard year for almost everyone. So much isolation, so much racial tension, politics, people dying by the thousands, stay at home orders and all.
I started out this year at weight and fitness level that wasn't even close to where I wanted to be. Then the world shut down and I felt so lost. For the first month I basically did nothing but eat and do jigsaw puzzles.
Then spring finally arrived and I got out for some runs. I signed up for a virtual race that was a run the distance of the northernmost point of PA to the southernmost point in the state from June 1st to July 31st. 191 miles in two months. It was a stretch and I didn't actually think I could pull it off. In hindsight signing up for that virtual event was an amazing decision. I found my rhythm again. I started to get fit again, I started losing weight and my speed increased and I totally fell in love with running again.
The pandemic sucks in so many ways but running has once again been my salvation and I'm really hoping that 2021 brings better times but if it doesn't I'll be out there pounding the pavement while listening to my kickass playlist and the sounds of my footfalls on the ground as I process whatever life has to throw at me.
As we move into the holidays I hope everyone stays healthy and most of all happy.
Me and my silly boy!
