8 miles and a Line at the Port-A-Potty
Four years ago yesterday, I ran the Nashville Half Marathon the last time. That race… I’ve run it 3 times. It was H A R D in a different way every time. I almost quit that day 4 years ago. I didn’t.
Somehow I knew, in the moment, that it might be my last half to run, at least for a while. And if still might, although I’m starting to run again….maybe.
In hindsight, the mental challenges of half marathon training and race day were similar to the ones needed as a cancer patient and the healing journey that comes after.
I’m so grateful I didn’t quit that day 4 years ago. I’m glad I finished for the celebration at the end, and I’m glad I finished for the lessons learned that are applicable even today. And I’m grateful that cancer was kind to me because I know I didn’t fight harder or better than others whose earthly journeys went differently. For every one we’ve lost, they fought harder than I did. They persevered longer, they were more brave and had more strength than I did. For my sweet friends still fighting, you give me strength.
It’s bittersweet looking at these pictures as I’m tempted to see glimpses of what life could have been AND I’m grateful that God prepared my heart to give up running these races, at least for a little while, so my heart was ready to set them aside while I ran a different journey.
I’m also grateful for these two friends (Chelsea & Heidi) as well as the C O U N T L E S S others who’ve celebrated the finishes and milestones and victories over the years! I’m so grateful there have been many!
AND I’m sad for the ones I’ve missed. I’m sad about the dreams and roles I’ve had to set aside. I’m frustrated I’m having to find a new normal and start new things because I liked what I had before. I liked the hopes and dreams I clung to before cancer and before infertility. I didn’t want cancer to be a daily vocabulary word or the driver of a new research stream or reason to step away from a career or the reason to start a new venture. I don’t want anyone to need Cancer Care Cards or resources. I don't want there to be a reason to learn more about the relationship between cancer and careers, and I don’t want to need to help businesses navigate the challenges. I don’t want cancer to exist, and I’m grieving that so many I know and have grown to love are impacted by it. Significantly.
But don’t get me wrong, I’m HONORED I get to do it. I have never asked, “Why me?”, and I’m still not. I know why me. I know exactly that God is using my passions and talents and gifts for this and for good. He has shown me over and over the behind the scenes of His working and wow, I can’t believe I get to be part of it!
AND…
The tension between gratitude and mourning has been so strong and thick this week. Maybe I’m not the only one who is at the heavy corner of grief and gratitude debating which way to go and realizing both are probably serving me well. Maybe I’m not the only one who is BOTH confidently hopeful that God is good and life is good and honored by the ways He’s working AND tired from how hard has been and it continues to be.
Back to that race day four years ago. I did almost quit. Twice actually. I knew that course well; it weaved up and down the roads of my college days and my neighborhood as a young professional. I knew, at two different points, that my car was parked less than 1/2 a mile away, and my car keys were conveniently in my waist belt.
I was really frustrated. My headphones were new and weren’t working like I wanted, there were too many people in my way, I had to go to the restroom, my knee was hurting, and the mental games were agressively starting. I almost quit. I almost quit again.
But looking back at these pictures, my first thought was, “Wow! I was strong. I was super fast - look at that time! Man, we had fun at the finish line taking pictures and our after race meal was SOOOOOOOOOO GOOOOOOOOOD!” And as I sat a few minutes reminiscing over the collection of pictures, I started remembering the actual day = it was hard. I think the tension was there and then, too.
So, as I’m at a frustration point in the journey to my/our new normal, I’m remembering that at the first point on that day I almost quit, I still had 8 miles and an unfortunate line at a Port-a-Potty before the finish line was crossed and celebration came. The remaining challenge was similar the second time as well. Not quitting that day was a victory and those two moments are serving me well again today as a reminder there’s a lot more frustration than easy on a difficult journey…but in the end it’s worth it! 🎉
So, if you’re finding yourself on a tough course, perhaps one with tension between grief and gratitude, sorrow and joy, staying the course (assuming it’s safe) just may serve you well today and may also be building the grit, perserverance and tenacity you need one day around another bend.
Hang in there, you’re not alone, and I bet there’s a big celebration (and some delicious food) at the end!
Love first & hope always 💕,
Lulu
