Month: August 2021

Sometimes we just aren’t prepared

There are times in life when we think we are fully prepared for what is to come- good or bad. Having a child- major life milestone- the moment when you know he or she is the one.

Before having the boys I imagined both how hard the experience was going to be and how amazing it would be to hold them for the very first time. Truth be told the experience wasn’t as hard as I imagined- but the feeling of absolute awe of the medical staff and quite honestly of my body remains. And there is nothing that compares with that first look, that first hold of your newborn baby. But then I think back to when we were expecting our second child. How on earth could I possibly love this child as much as my first, the one who made me a mother. Well, you know what when he was born my heart doubled in size and I love them equally- we used to say to the moon and back but now have progressed to Pluto and back, because according to my sons that’s even further so that means I love them even more. Truth be told there is NO way I could love them more. I’m grateful each and every day that I get to be there mother. Yes, even on the hard days!!

Think about other milestone experiences. Going to college- taking board exams- getting married. Generally we think we know how good or bad these experiences are going to be. Going to college- initially a huge adjustment- but life changing. I met my husband there and as they say “the rest is history.” The Bar Exam- I imagined it would be terrible- it was somehow even worse than I had even imagined it would be- but I survived. Hard experiences give us new perspective, a new understanding of what is important.

As we get older the experiences change and evolve. Our kids start to grow, as they are supposed to. They need us differently- they go to school. How exciting for them and they have loved it from the very beginning. I cry every single first day of school. No idea why. But I still do.

There are times in life when we are unprepared for for the emotions that come with an experience. You can see all the signs and know what is coming, but yet the experience still stops us in our tracks. Years ago we knew that the Alzheimer’s diagnosis was coming for my dad. Even though he was still in his 50s all the signs were there. Yet, having confirmation still hurt. It was scary to know what was to come. When you have a loved one diagnosed with Alzheimer’s it is a matter of just waiting for when things start to decline and then decline more rapidly. People are kind and ask how he’s doing- and as the years go on there’s a status quo and then the point when you know things are just going to continue to get worse. There is no real way to answer the question when people ask. The whole time you know the end game. They aren’t going to get better…ever. And then even though you’ve known it was going to come some day the some day comes and it’s time to say goodbye. There is nothing in your life that prepares you to say goodbye to a parent. No book you can read, no other experience you can have to prepare you. It’s raw, it hurts, there’s an ache to my core.

My dad took a sharp decline on Sunday. We had a truly heartfelt goodbye via FaceTime. He’s in Arizona and I’m in Maryland. He told me it was time to “take a rest from his rest and not to be upset”. He told me that he loved me. I ugly cried. I knew that was going to be the best last conversation I could hope for given his condition. But yesterday morning I just knew I needed to go to see him. I honestly didn’t know if I was going to make it in time, but I had to try. So today I boarded a flight at 6:45 AM in Maryland and landed in Arizona before 9:00 AM. I got to spend several hours with my dad. I held his hand. I cried. I told him that I loved him and then the time came to give him one last hug. There have been previous times that we thought were going to be the last time I saw him, but this was it. The very last time. There are no words to describe the feeling.

I realize that for some they never get the chance to say goodbye and in many respects I’m “fortunate,” but you’ll excuse me if I’m not feeling too fortunate right now. I still can’t understand the why my dad had to get Alzheimer’s. Why someone who worked so hard all their life had to have their life cut so short by this dreadful disease. I know I will keep working, running and fighting for a cure that someday others don’t have to suffer this way. We have to and can do better- we must #endalz.

Lowest monthly mileage- has running lost its spark?

I started tracking my mileage more completely in 2020. Prior to that I just ran and had a round about idea of how far I had run, unless of course I was in training cycle and I was hitting my key run and weekly mileage. Cue the pandemic in 2020 and my mileage jumped from on average 65-70 miles a month to 100 miles and steadily climbed to 130 miles a month. I obsessed over keeping track of miles and running streaks. Running was my cure for all the uncertainly surrounding the pandemic. Plus, I had more time than ever to run. It felt like the right amount to run and sooner or later I’ll get back there, but for right now I’m listening to my body and focusing on core/strength training as a component of my overall training.

July was different for a variety of reasons. I ran a Half Marathon at the beginning of the month and wait for it…I actually tapered. That gave me a dip from my normal 25-30 miles a week to just over 19 miles for the week. Following the race, I actually gave my body a day or two to recover rather than going right back into running. For months on end during what I’ll call “pandemic running” I ran every day. Didn’t think twice about it. Insisted my body didn’t need a rest day. And you know what, my body is tired. It needs a rest. And for once I’m actually listening to it. I went back to work full time. My dad entered hospice.

For the first six months of the year I was on pace to reach my overall mileage goal of 1500 miles on the year. In 2019 I ran just over 500 miles, last year I had set a goal of 1000 miles and then upped it to 1300 when I knew I was going to blow by 1000 miles. It’s now the beginning of August and I’ver run 827 miles. After being on pace to hit 1500, I’m now 50 or so miles off pace. Strava was always a fun push to stay on target and right now it just feels like it’s judging me for not hitting my miles. Maybe I was unrealistic when I set my goal. Maybe my year of pandemic running wasn’t really the one to use as a benchmark for setting this year’s goal. Maybe it’s ok if we don’t hit our goals if our priorities are shifting a bit, oh and we go back to work full time, and we have real life stress.

When I started running again in 2019 I had no real expectations of hitting weekly miles or paces for races. The longer I’ve been running the more pressure I put on myself for more miles or set unreasonable expectations for races. Some of the spark has rubbed off and it’s started to feel more like a chore. Marathon training starts again this month and I need to get my head on straight to focus, stay healthy, eat properly and get some sleep. Running the marathon became this grand idea during the pandemic. When racing got canceled I shifted my focus to why I run (in addition to being healthy, setting a good example), but for those who can’t. I realize with each and every step how fortunate I am to be able to physically run. But more importantly, I’m running the NYC Marathon with the Alzheimer’s Association team, to honor my father. It was a two pronged theory- 1) running gave me something to do when I felt helpless and couldn’t do anything for him and 2) I was able to raise important dollars so that we can find a cure for Alzheimer’s. He’s reaching the end of his Alzheimer’s battle. And while I’m full of hurt, pain and emotion the one thing that always helped me feel better- lacing up my shoes just isn’t doing it for me. I didn’t run Saturday just because we had a lot going on. Sunday, came and he was having a particularly bad day. Following a tear filled call I opted for a movie with the boys. But then my youngest said, are you sure you aren’t going to run today too? Like he knew I needed that last little push to get out the door. I went. It was fairly terrible. I opted to run outside because it normally helps me clear my head. I cried a lot and I’m not quite sure the run had it’s desired effect. But my accountability partners- who know how much running needs to me were there to remind me when I was struggling. This is an amazing example of when you’ve made a healthy habit a routine and you fall of the wagon so to speak your “people” are there to remind you of why you do what you do.

Now it’s Monday. Up early, writing this post, rather than running before work. But I still have enough time to squeeze in three easy miles before starting my day. My why remains the same of honoring those who can’t run, of finding a cure for a dreaded disease, of setting a healthy example for my children and taking care of my body. So I will lace up my shoes and put one foot in front of the other. As with any other hard time in life we have to just keep moving forward- one step at a time.