Tag Archives: lessons

Be Careful What You Wish For

16 May

Wednesday Morning:

7:30 a.m.

I snooze my alarm, wander downstairs to let the furballs outside, and collapse onto the couch to fall back asleep.

7:45 a.m.

Christina starts calling my name from upstairs.  When I respond, she asks me what I’m doing.  “Sleeping,” I groan and pray for her to be satisfied with a single word.  She tells me my phone is ringing, a colleague whom I work closely with.  I realize that its 4:30 a.m. in her time zone.  I wander upstairs, curious to know what the emergency early morning phone call is about.

8:00 a.m.

I curl up next to Christina in bed and ask if my friend left a voice mail.  “Wellll, she didn’t call.  I just had to get you upstairs to talk to you.”  Gasp.  Trickery.  Betrayal.  “What?!” I say jokingly.  And then, my life coach future wife gave me one hell of a pep talk.

8:15 a.m.

After reluctantly putting on my running clothes, we step out into a light drizzle.  Hmph.  “Great,” I say.  “It’s starting to rain.”  I huff and puff on the sidewalk as she hands me a paper to drop off at the building next door.  I huff and puff some more.  “Just go,” she tells me as she drives off.

8:20 a.m.

I emerge from the building next door and notice our car parked suspiciously across the street.  As I near the sidewalk, she rolls down the windows and I hear it:

I am mortified.  My face turns absolutely crimson, a color usually reserved for after my run.  I demand her to stop.  She rides alongside me as we head for the red light at the end of the street.  By this point, I cannot stop smiling and laughing at how ridiculous we are.  Another pedestrian is amused, and confused, by the spectacle that is us.  When the light turns green, she follows me instead of making the turn she normally does which will take her on her morning deliveries.  Ahhhh!!!  “Okay, okay!!  I’m going,” I half scream, half laugh at her.  As she pulls slowly away from me and drives further out of sight, I can no longer hear the music.  But, I can see her fist pumping out of the car window and into the morning air.

Sometimes, God answers your prayers in ways you never could have expected.

And sometimes, if you are even half as lucky as me, you realize that He wrapped up your Mickey Goldmill and your Adrian into one incredible person.

♥ God Bless Boston ♥

17 Apr

I wanted to take a few days to process the events that happened in Boston before I mentioned them on the blog.  I think that I’ve done that, and I feel that I need to get some things out of my system.

This is not a running blog, by any means.

I’m so new to this sport that sometimes I forget that I am a runner.

But, I run.  I am a runner.

Picture 018

But, I completed my first 5K two days before the tragedy at the Boston Marathon.  I trained for 9 weeks leading up that 5K.  Every single day I poured some degree of blood, sweat, and tears into training.  It consumed me.  In my entire life, I had never felt such a sense of accomplishment and pride and emotions and celebrations as when I crossed that finish line and hugged my loved ones, who had been patiently cheering for me.  I know that feeling is shared by anyone who has ever completed a race.

I can’t even imagine how much people train to make it the whole way to the Boston Marathon.  I will never know what its like to hit that last mile, to see that finish line; to lock eyes with the loved ones waiting and cheering you on; to have that ripped away in chaos, smoke, and shrapnel.  That is something I can’t even imagine.  Something I don’t want to imagine.

I started running because I wanted to feel a sense of personal accomplishment while I made healthy changes in my life.  I wasn’t sure I was even qualified to be discussing the BM tragedy  because I’m so new to the sport.  But, I run.  I am a runner.  While I don’t know anyone personally who was running that day (or spectating outside of the medic tent, really), I felt connected to those people.  I felt scared for them and their families and for all runners who now have something else to overcome to get to a finish line.  I felt anxiety about the upcoming Pittsburgh Marathon, where I will be cheering from the sidelines for my mother-in-law, friends, and other family.

Over the last few days, I never faltered in my commitment to this sport.  My commitment to continue training and continue signing up for races.  On Tuesday morning, I ran two very slow miles before work.  I know this sounds lame, but it was emotional.  I thought about the hundreds, probably thousands, of people who were at the race that day and who are forever effected by what they experienced and heard and saw.  I prayed for the people who had been hurt and for their families.  I prayed that they continue to find ways to enjoy the sport that they love, that they worked so hard for.

I was on the fence about my next move with running.  There are several 5Ks that I’ve mentally committed to in the upcoming months.  I had toyed with the idea of an upcoming 10K in June.  My ultimate goal is to run a half marathon.  Its weird that when a tragedy occurs, even when its not to you or anyone you know, it touches you on an emotional level.  Sometimes you find personal clarity in all the public confusion.

The last few days have been full of invaluable lessons for everyone.  I can only speak for myself.

On Saturday, I learned that I can do whatever I want to, if I train hard enough and push myself.  I challenged what I thought were my personal limits and I exceeded them.  The bar is higher now.  On Sunday, I learned to celebrate my accomplishments and look towards future goals with new eyes.  Its true that arriving at one goal can be the starting point to another.  On Monday, I learned that life can change in the blink of an eye.


And just like that, my 10K training starts.  You never know when everything can be taken away from you.  I have to do this now, because the future doesn’t come with a guarantee.  My feet are pounding the same pavements, but I see them through different eyes.  And for now, my heart is with the people effected by the tragedy at the Boston Marathon.

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