A year ago,
Brian, Hayley and I drove out to Lido Key for a day at the beach. I was pregnant and feeling huge and a little bit disappointed that I wasn't able to complete my goal of participating in the Sarasota Half Marathon. I vowed that I would force myself to participate in 2009, even if it meant crawling across the finish line. Luckily, it didn't come to that.
For the most part, my reasons for running have been pretty shallow. After all, what better way to burn baby fat than running? Of course it's always been a dream of mine to run a marathon, but it was one of those dreams that I felt was completely unreachable and pretty much a pipe dream. But back in August, God brought an amazing group of women into my life. Because he knew that I would need running, and their strength to get me through the challenges that lay ahead.
With the encourgament of the group, I signed up and committed to this race back in November. And for the past three months I've been training with this day in mind. But in the past three weeks, this race and my training unfortunately took on new meaning. On January 27th, my Dad was diagnosed with malignant melanoma on his neck which had spread to his lymph nodes. This diagnosis was absolutely devestating and shocking to me and my family. So far 2009 has been a series of struggles and challenges for me personally, and this trial has most definitely been one of the lowest points of my life. I've struggled with getting out of bed each day and keeping myself composed, much less just trying to mother a ten month old and a two year old. Because suddenly, everything that seemed important a month ago, just wasn't. All that mattered was life, and knowing that there would be many more memories made with the people I care about most in this world.
And in the midst of my emotional upheaval I had an incredible group of women calling and emailing and lending their support. I'd made a committment to myself and to them, and with their help, I kept running and the road became my therapist. I spent the better part of our two and a half hour long runs on Saturday mornings examining the meaning of life and pleading with God. It was at that point that this race no longer became about me. I was running for my Dad. Because 13.1 miles was nothing compared to the challenge that he would overcome.
On February 9th, Dad underwent a Modified Radical Neck Dissection which removed 28 lymph nodes, a muscle, and an artery from his neck. Yes, it sounds as bad as it was and the fear and anxiety leading up to the surgery were near unbearable for me... I can only imagine what my Dad was going through. We spent another three agonizing days waiting for the pathology to come back. Just last Thursday we found out that the cancer had not spread!! Praise God!! I know that Dad will still face challenges as a result of all this, but I'm confident that God will see us all through.
So today, at mile eight, when my feet were on fire and I felt the pain from a nagging blister, I kept running. At mile eleven, when my energy began to falter and I had to dig deep for the strength to keep on, I kept running. Because I was running for Dad, and I wasn't going to stop. And I spent 13.1 miles, praising God, and thanking him for the gift of life that he has given us and the wonderful people he places in our lives at just the right time. Don't get me wrong, there were quiet a few "Lord, have mercys" mixed in there as well, but I ran. I gratefully ran.
And so Dad, this medal is yours. I love you.
Don't worry, I have my own little race souvenier.
I know, not want any of my blog readers wanted to see. But no worthy warrier comes through battle unscathed. And despite the nasty toe, I've got my eyes set on a full marathon. Me and God have lots more to talk about...
