I had one of those mornings where I felt lucky to live in Richmond.  It wasn’t too hot and there was a breeze.  The humidity was still there, but not as bad as it has been.  I had a training run to complete and John suggested Belle Isle.  It’s been years since I stepped foot there.  Running across the footbridge yields beautiful views of the James River, downtown, and a bunch of very decrepit buildings that look perfect for a Texas Chainsaw Massacre re-enactment. 

photo credit

Since I was out sick last week, any run is hard for me.  3 miles, which used to be annoying but easy, is no longer easy. 

(it’s still annoying)

I may be one of those people who hate 90% of the runs, but love how I feel after.  I’m going to wait til the temperature cools before making my assessment.  John is already much faster than me which seems not fair, but then again, most roadkill is faster than I am.  I had dinner with a runner last night who finally dropped the “Uber Coach” attitude and told me how his runs really are, when things were hard for him, how a marathon feels mentally and physically, and how he’s gotten through the bad times.  His advice and his stories are invaluable to me.  Some I’ve experienced myself, others I hope to never experience.  His best advice yesterday?  Ignore the rest of the training schedule except the week I’m currently running.  This was good advice, considering looking ahead is giving me a runner’s version of panic attack which includes sweating preemptively, weak knees and a bad stomach.  It also sounds like a bad crush, but trust me, the crush is more fun. 

In the meantime, I’m scheming, trying to figure out a way to do this.  I want to take the girls, and since I’ll have already completed a half marathon (I hope!!!) in November, staying trained shouldn’t be too difficult.  I’m going to pull a Laura Posey and act “as if”.  I’m just going to plan for it, try to save some money, and make it happen. 

This week has been much better than the past.  Once I stopped fighting against what I’m learning, I settled into it and began making small changes to my life.  I cut back on the amount of work I’m doing.  I asked for help with things around the house.  Beds are going unmade and laundry piles up, but I’m feeling okay about it.  I’m acting “as if” I don’t care.  I am not sure why, but I feel abnormally calm.  I’m doing what I said I’d do, minus the yoga.  Still haven’t figured out when and how to slam that into my day.  My list goes 1.) Kids 2.) Work 3.) Run.  And right now, that’s about all I can handle. 

In a strange weird incident, I shared what was going on with me with someone I have known for quite a while.  We’re not super close, but it was like I had to tell her.  Turns out she’s been through the exact same thing and had an amazing amount of insight and advice to share with me.  After that conversation, I felt lighter and less like the world was ending.  The world is not ending, but my life is definitely changing.  In that moment between uncertainty and fear and the desire to share with my friend, I decided I was going to be open.  In the past I’ve been open - too open - and most of the time amazing things have come to me because of it.  When I wrote about the hospitalization, complete strangers and people I’d known for decades came out of the woodwork to tell me both privately and publicly that they too had been where I was.  Part of my protective coating right now is battening down the hatches, and this means more hibernation, more caution, more working on me and worrying less about others and their perceptions of me.  It feels lonely but it feels right.