This morning I ran a half marathon by myself. Well, along with 800 other runners, but I didn't know any of them. Actually, Taylor Swift and I ran it together, I had her so loud in my ear buds that it seemed like it was just us running. I signed up for this race a couple months ago. I am about 20 lbs over weight and semi out of shape so my thought was if I pay the eighty bucks it will motivate me to get my act together. I run when I can, which between work and care giving is almost never. For a while since Bert was diagnosed with ALS I stopped running, we used to do that together and I felt a kind of guilt that I could still run and he couldn't, especially since I was usually the whiny one about it and he absolutely loved to exercised. Then one day I decided that I should get off my ass and run for exactly that reason, he can't so I need to for the both of us and for every other person living with ALS out there that would be running if they could. As this Harrisburg Half approached, I wasn't really in the shape I wanted to be but I felt like I needed to get out there and run and no matter how I did it finish. So, I set the alarm for 5:30 am and I got up, got dressed in my We Believe Fight ALS t-shirt and No White Flags hat and drove to Harrisburg and ran.
It was a cool damp morning after all the rain yesterday, the sun was shining, really a perfect day for running. Over 800 runners turned out to run this morning all with their own reasons. I picked up my race packet, pinned my bib number on my shirt low enough so my message was still visible and found a corner by the start to stretch and look around at all the other runners. Some had breast cancer ribbons, some were there in groups of friends taking pictures, some looked very serious, some seemed to be new mom's with babies and husbands in tow to cheer them on, one woman had her wedding date with a decal of a ring on the back of her shirt, there were young and old all ready to take on this challenge. For me this was for my husband, for me, for all the people who have ALS and all their caregivers. I may not be thin or in perfect shape, but I am a runner. I listened to Taylor's 1989 and for a few minutes day dreamed about what it would be like if I could go back to that time, before ALS, before all the challenges I have now. I thought about the other day when Alex asked me if we would have bought a different house do I think dad would have still got sick. I thought about how it must feel to be 11 and wondering about those things...I didn't have that worry when I was his age. I thought about how I quickly reassured him that what house we chose would not have changed dad getting sick. I also thought about how I myself have actually wondered what I could have done differently to prevent all this as crazy as that sounds. This morning my mind was full of random thoughts. As the start time approached I moved toward the gentleman with the bright pink hair who was pacing at the 11:27 pace. I knew today was not going to be my PR but I wanted to run as hard as I could with all my extra baggage that I did not have with me the last time I ran a half marathon.
Off we went, Taylor's Wildest Dreams flowing through my body helping me to put one foot in front of the other. I focused at first on Mr. Pacer Jim's pink hair, then my mind went to all the people living with ALS. I thought of each person I knew with this disease, I said their names in my mind, with each step I wished for a cure, for a treatment, for an easier life for them. I thought of all the people lost, and all the times I have had to say I am so sorry for your loss. I thought about all the people who have lost their loved ones yet still fight for those living with ALS right now...I thought about how it would be easier for them to just put it behind them and move on, but they don't because they want to honor the person they love and they know this disease is unacceptable. I thought about Bert at home in bed asleep with Sophia next to him. I thought about how Sophia and I sat in Star Bucks yesterday talking about the Tobii and what it's capabilities were. She was already putting her agenda together for this coming week and wanted to know if she could get the social media up and running on it. Sometimes I forget she is 12, because when her friends are texting her to come to the pool, she is home cooking, administering pills, pulling pants up, and working with the Tobii so her dad will have a way to communicate. She doesn't complain, she loves her dad and wants to be with him, she keeps her sense of humor and she is a light for him. I thought about how very proud of Sophia and Alex I am. Most of all I thought about Bert and how with each step I could feel the strength his legs used to have pushing me forward.
I kept up with the pink haired pacer until mile 8 when he started to pull away from me. I pushed on, my focus turning to Taylor singing Shake It Off, and looking to shake off my discomfort with 4+ miles to go. After pushing through mile 9, I started to feel better. My mind went back to my days at college, when Bert and I convinced our parents that we needed to take a couple summer courses to get ahead, when really we were just so desperate to be together that we were willing to take Science and Marketing during our three months off. I remembered the evenings we spent on the track together and how we would lay on the high jump pit after running talking about our future and professing our love to each other. That was such a great summer. I felt grateful for all the amazing years I have had with my husband the happy times together. I felt energized, maybe because running makes you feel that way or maybe because I have had such an amazing life so far, I don't know, but I do know that I wouldn't change a thing if it meant that any of those experiences would be taken away. I felt happy. I think that is the weirdest thing about this ALS journey, there is so much pain, stress, fear, and frustration, yet there is still room for hope and for happiness. Life is like that, it's a journey and with the scariest times of darkness come the most amazing rainbows of happiness.
Mile 12, I could see the big red blow up arch of the finish, I just had one more small hill and I would be crossing the bridge to the finish line. For the last couple miles I just really focused on the party we are going to have when this disease is cured or able to be treated. I let myself dream of what it would feel like for the people living with ALS to get better, for there to be a time when you can be diagnosed with this disease in the doctors office and they say here is the plan instead of you have 2-5 years. I remembered a morning last week when Sophia said to me "mom if they find a cure and dad gets better are we going to go to the Grand Canyon?" and I said "YES we are going to the Grand Canyon baby and then some!," in that last mile I let myself dream it were true, we were popping the champagne, we were all crying tears of joy, and we were headed to the Grand Canyon...no wheelchairs, and we were hiking and running and taking in all the beauty around us.
As I crossed the finish line, the music had ended up where is started, "say you'll remember me standing in a nice dress staring at the sunset babe, red lips and rosy cheeks, say you'll see me again even if it's just in your Wildest Dreams...aaaahhhhaaa." Taylor, thanks for the run. 2:40, not my best but I finished. Just then a text came through "You alive?," it was my babe and I was on my way home to him. We get today together and I felt happy.
Running is so symbolic of life. You have to drive yourself to overcome the obstacles. You might feel that you can't. But then you find your inner strength, and realize you're capable of so much more than you thought. ~Arthur Blank
xoxo ~Jennifer
It was a cool damp morning after all the rain yesterday, the sun was shining, really a perfect day for running. Over 800 runners turned out to run this morning all with their own reasons. I picked up my race packet, pinned my bib number on my shirt low enough so my message was still visible and found a corner by the start to stretch and look around at all the other runners. Some had breast cancer ribbons, some were there in groups of friends taking pictures, some looked very serious, some seemed to be new mom's with babies and husbands in tow to cheer them on, one woman had her wedding date with a decal of a ring on the back of her shirt, there were young and old all ready to take on this challenge. For me this was for my husband, for me, for all the people who have ALS and all their caregivers. I may not be thin or in perfect shape, but I am a runner. I listened to Taylor's 1989 and for a few minutes day dreamed about what it would be like if I could go back to that time, before ALS, before all the challenges I have now. I thought about the other day when Alex asked me if we would have bought a different house do I think dad would have still got sick. I thought about how it must feel to be 11 and wondering about those things...I didn't have that worry when I was his age. I thought about how I quickly reassured him that what house we chose would not have changed dad getting sick. I also thought about how I myself have actually wondered what I could have done differently to prevent all this as crazy as that sounds. This morning my mind was full of random thoughts. As the start time approached I moved toward the gentleman with the bright pink hair who was pacing at the 11:27 pace. I knew today was not going to be my PR but I wanted to run as hard as I could with all my extra baggage that I did not have with me the last time I ran a half marathon.
Off we went, Taylor's Wildest Dreams flowing through my body helping me to put one foot in front of the other. I focused at first on Mr. Pacer Jim's pink hair, then my mind went to all the people living with ALS. I thought of each person I knew with this disease, I said their names in my mind, with each step I wished for a cure, for a treatment, for an easier life for them. I thought of all the people lost, and all the times I have had to say I am so sorry for your loss. I thought about all the people who have lost their loved ones yet still fight for those living with ALS right now...I thought about how it would be easier for them to just put it behind them and move on, but they don't because they want to honor the person they love and they know this disease is unacceptable. I thought about Bert at home in bed asleep with Sophia next to him. I thought about how Sophia and I sat in Star Bucks yesterday talking about the Tobii and what it's capabilities were. She was already putting her agenda together for this coming week and wanted to know if she could get the social media up and running on it. Sometimes I forget she is 12, because when her friends are texting her to come to the pool, she is home cooking, administering pills, pulling pants up, and working with the Tobii so her dad will have a way to communicate. She doesn't complain, she loves her dad and wants to be with him, she keeps her sense of humor and she is a light for him. I thought about how very proud of Sophia and Alex I am. Most of all I thought about Bert and how with each step I could feel the strength his legs used to have pushing me forward.
I kept up with the pink haired pacer until mile 8 when he started to pull away from me. I pushed on, my focus turning to Taylor singing Shake It Off, and looking to shake off my discomfort with 4+ miles to go. After pushing through mile 9, I started to feel better. My mind went back to my days at college, when Bert and I convinced our parents that we needed to take a couple summer courses to get ahead, when really we were just so desperate to be together that we were willing to take Science and Marketing during our three months off. I remembered the evenings we spent on the track together and how we would lay on the high jump pit after running talking about our future and professing our love to each other. That was such a great summer. I felt grateful for all the amazing years I have had with my husband the happy times together. I felt energized, maybe because running makes you feel that way or maybe because I have had such an amazing life so far, I don't know, but I do know that I wouldn't change a thing if it meant that any of those experiences would be taken away. I felt happy. I think that is the weirdest thing about this ALS journey, there is so much pain, stress, fear, and frustration, yet there is still room for hope and for happiness. Life is like that, it's a journey and with the scariest times of darkness come the most amazing rainbows of happiness.
Mile 12, I could see the big red blow up arch of the finish, I just had one more small hill and I would be crossing the bridge to the finish line. For the last couple miles I just really focused on the party we are going to have when this disease is cured or able to be treated. I let myself dream of what it would feel like for the people living with ALS to get better, for there to be a time when you can be diagnosed with this disease in the doctors office and they say here is the plan instead of you have 2-5 years. I remembered a morning last week when Sophia said to me "mom if they find a cure and dad gets better are we going to go to the Grand Canyon?" and I said "YES we are going to the Grand Canyon baby and then some!," in that last mile I let myself dream it were true, we were popping the champagne, we were all crying tears of joy, and we were headed to the Grand Canyon...no wheelchairs, and we were hiking and running and taking in all the beauty around us.
As I crossed the finish line, the music had ended up where is started, "say you'll remember me standing in a nice dress staring at the sunset babe, red lips and rosy cheeks, say you'll see me again even if it's just in your Wildest Dreams...aaaahhhhaaa." Taylor, thanks for the run. 2:40, not my best but I finished. Just then a text came through "You alive?," it was my babe and I was on my way home to him. We get today together and I felt happy.
Running is so symbolic of life. You have to drive yourself to overcome the obstacles. You might feel that you can't. But then you find your inner strength, and realize you're capable of so much more than you thought. ~Arthur Blank
xoxo ~Jennifer
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