So, I am sitting on a plane now- flying from Austin to Houston. I am supposed to be reading some briefing report and competitive analysis for a conference I am attending. I finally realized after about 10 minutes that I was just staring into space… or at least out the window. So, I decided to write this…
My grandfather recently had a stroke. This has been pretty difficult for me. It is hard to see someone you love that suddenly seems so different. As usual, I hide my emotions and feelings behind humor and then it will just hit me hard all of the sudden.
Truth be told, I have always been the renegade grandchild (hard to believe, right?) I never did as I was told, was the adventurous one that did not want to follow the rules, and was always looking to live the big life out there. Most of my family never really understood what the hell I was thinking or doing and I realize much has not changed to this day. They seem to struggle with my decisions, traveling lifestyle, and basically think I am a lunatic. My grandfather always supported my ways- even when I would get in trouble or go out on a crazy limb (hence my chin-splitting open story… eeeeeek). He also was my biggest fan when I played sports growing up- often planning his and my grandma’s trips between their homes in Florida and Ohio to correspond with seeing me play basketball and run cross country as much as possible. He clipped every newspaper article…. Even asking his small northeastern Ohio hometown paper to run an article on me… because I was HIS granddaughter after all. I can do no wrong in his eyes.
About three years ago, my grandparents got Web TV so he can use his TV as a monitor due to his declining eyesight and type. My family is thrilled with my return to running, especially grandpa. My mom fills everyone in on my whereabouts and plans and keeps them updated. My grandpa usually sends me an email before a race to wish me luck. In the back of my mind on Friday and Saturday, I thought about this. Would I get the email? Would he remember? Is he OK? It made me miss my family so much and I felt selfish in a way for thinking about this when I know he is in bad health. But somehow it makes me think about how much I know he wishes he could cheer me on if he could.
I got the email Saturday evening. Apparently, grandpa yelled at my grandma from this chair Saturday afternoon and seemed to be in a panic. He had remembered my race and thought he had missed it- he thought I had run Saturday! He asked my grandma to type the email for him as to write exactly as he spoke. I still cry when I look at it.
Maybe this is why the race seemed so easy yesterday. I did not feel pain. Maybe it is why I seriously cannot even remember it now. I can’t remember the miles. I think about how I was glad to be wearing sunglasses because I cried at several points, but not tears of pain. I think about how I felt- strong, confident, and supported.
I usually do things in spite of people that tell me I cannot do it. But, I run for all the people that tell me I CAN do it.
And so I continue on my journey to the Chicago Marathon... may every day of running seem as easy as it did yesterday!
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3 comments:
That is soooo sweet. You made me get all teary eyed and I'm not at home!
There's nothin' better than being grandpa's little gal.
My grandpa introduced me to health & fitness at a very young age and if he were still here I'm pretty sure he'd be at my races...he always thought I could go to the Olympics...I believe he was a tad bias, just a tad though;)
Great story!
You've run a half...the full will be easy! Marathon's are a mental game. As long as not (too) injured training, the actual physical effort is bearable.
Plus, I hear Chigaco is a GREAT place to run a Marathon, with people all along the route! I hear ou feed of that energy, plus the spiritual energy that you have right now.
(its when you run a course that has long stretches with no people that yur mind plys tricks on you, like the Air Force Marathon in Dayton)
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