We sort of knew from the get-go that this half marathon would be different. We were busier than usual. Long weekend training runs got replaced with a condensed version, racing against daylight to get 'er done. We talked about how it would be so different to stay in a hotel the night before the race, not in the comfort of our own beds. We never ran the route ahead of time. Half of my toenails were black & blue from a labor day hike up South Sister. The only good thing going for us was that we'd be racing at sea level as opposed to 3.600 feet. We hoped that would make up for everything else!
The day before the race, we said good-bye to our families. My oldest son had just come home from college so, it was hard to say goodbye but atleast, it was me who was leaving this time, not him. Rachel's hubby and 3 boys were all packed in their car, heading to see family in Hood River. We both sighed as we pulled away, saying how excited we were to have a night away. From family. From responsibility. A girls day out of shopping, dining and staying in the big city, before our big race. We were excited! We were nervous. We were off!
We killed a few hours shopping at the outlets near Portland. We picked up our race packets. We checked into our hotel. We found a great little italian place to have dinner that was walking distance from our hotel so, we headed off in search of big bowls of pasta, bread and red wine! The perfect pre-race meal!!
We had a wonderful dinner. The place was so quaint, complete with red and white checked tablecloths and, a wait staff that looked like they had stepped right out of a mob movie! It was so nice to just sit and eat and drink and enjoy each other's company without any time frame or children at the table! We shared stories, talked about the upcoming race and just savored the wine and the feeling of freedom.
Then, the phone rang. It was Rachel's husband calling to say he was headed to a hospital in Portland with their oldest boy who had been experiencing scary symptoms such as weakness in his right side and trouble talking. This had happened once before, so they knew it was nothing to mess around with.
We both felt like the world was moving in slow motion as we paid our bill and walked back to the hotel. Surreal for sure. We went back to our room. She quickly grabbed her things, that she had just, hours before, set down in the room, and we headed to the hospital in the dark of night. Both of us sat in silence, not sure what to say. She prayed. I drove as fast as I could.
Soon, her husband came flying into the emergency room driveway and I said good-bye to my friend and headed back to the hotel - alone. It was such a sad, lonely feeling to walk back into our room. I couldn't help but think that this was not how I had pictured our night going. As I began to feel a little sorry for myself, I thought how sad and scared they must be sitting in the ER awaiting test results and doctor's orders.
I got into bed, but couldn't sleep. I lay awake, staring at the clock. Midnight passed. I don't know what time I finally fell asleep but, I could not make myself get out of bed the next morning. It was called the "Girlfriends Half" and my girlfriend was not with me. She was in a cold hospital room, awaiting test results and the fate of her oldest child. And to be honest, I didn't want to run 13.1 miles without her. I lay in the dark and just prayed. And cried. And prayed some more. And finally fell back asleep. When I awoke a while later, I heard the runners passing beneath my hotel window. I quietly pulled the curtains shut and said a prayer. A prayer for those running. For those not running. For those who were in a whole other race altogether.
It confirmed my belief that no matter how much we plan or train or think that we are in control ... we are not. Sometimes, God has other plans for us. But, He always puts us exactly where we need to be. And, this weekend was a perfect example of that - God's grace and divinity shining through in a difficult situation.
I have run for fun. I have run for time. I have run for beer. And, I've run for pie. But, this was a different kind of race. One that you just have to close your eyes and trust that God that will get you to the finish line and show you why you had to take the road you hadn't planned on taking. Everything turned out okay in the end, as I knew it would. My friend's little boy is a healthy, happy, perfectly normal 5th grader...Praise God! Life really is all about how you handle Plan B or as I like to call it - Plan G.O.D.!
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