Yahoo!!! Hallelujiah!! Wowzer! Right On!! Thank you, Lord!
Got a call from the dermatologist on Friday and they said they got all it all! Yippee!
So happy...I hope the next time I go back in there and get needles poked in me, it's for BOTOX!!
Cheers! Celebrate Life and Drink it Up...It is soooo Good!
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
The Big D - Part Deux
So, the surgery was scheduled. I had to wait 3 grueling weeks. That, I think, is the hardest thing for me. The waiting. I am not a good waiter.
The day before the surgery, I opened up my Jesus Calling Devotional book and read these lines:
I just sat there, silently in awe and precious reverence, and had this sense of peace envelope my entire body. Wow. God had placed that very devotion in that very book, just for me. I suddenly felt less scared and anxious about the day ahead. I knew in my heart that "God's got this!"
That evening, I took a soak in our hot tub (knowing it would be my last for a few weeks, atleast til my stitches came out.) I sat there with my arms outstretched, with the rain softly falling on my face, looking up at the evening sky. There were all sorts of puffy, white clouds and dark patches, with a few light spots here and there. A beautiful sky for sure. I was in a peaceful state of mind, relaxed and ready. I was looking for a sign in the sky from God. Something to assure me that "He really did have this!"
As I stared into the heavens, the clouds began to form images. The first was what looked like a lion's face. It was beautiful, and the most distinct characteristic was his piercing eyes, staring down at me. He seemed to be telling me to have courage. The next image I saw was that of an angel...I could barely make out her huge wings and a small head, it looked like she was hovering over me and letting me know that I was in good hands. The last and final image I saw, was that of a sheep. It started out very small and then, morphed into a much bigger image of a sheep's head. It had soft fluffy fur around it's face and little soft ears and big eyes...Tears streamed down my face and I couldn't help but think of Psalm 23:1,4:
The day before the surgery, I opened up my Jesus Calling Devotional book and read these lines:
"Let Me prepare you for the day that awaits you and point you in the right direction.
I am with you continually. So, don't be intimidated by fear.
Though it stalks you, it cannot harm you, as long as you cling to My hand."
I just sat there, silently in awe and precious reverence, and had this sense of peace envelope my entire body. Wow. God had placed that very devotion in that very book, just for me. I suddenly felt less scared and anxious about the day ahead. I knew in my heart that "God's got this!"
That evening, I took a soak in our hot tub (knowing it would be my last for a few weeks, atleast til my stitches came out.) I sat there with my arms outstretched, with the rain softly falling on my face, looking up at the evening sky. There were all sorts of puffy, white clouds and dark patches, with a few light spots here and there. A beautiful sky for sure. I was in a peaceful state of mind, relaxed and ready. I was looking for a sign in the sky from God. Something to assure me that "He really did have this!"
As I stared into the heavens, the clouds began to form images. The first was what looked like a lion's face. It was beautiful, and the most distinct characteristic was his piercing eyes, staring down at me. He seemed to be telling me to have courage. The next image I saw was that of an angel...I could barely make out her huge wings and a small head, it looked like she was hovering over me and letting me know that I was in good hands. The last and final image I saw, was that of a sheep. It started out very small and then, morphed into a much bigger image of a sheep's head. It had soft fluffy fur around it's face and little soft ears and big eyes...Tears streamed down my face and I couldn't help but think of Psalm 23:1,4:
"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil,
For you are with me: your rod and your staff, they comfort me."
I was truly humbled and amazed and once again, I felt such comfort from above. I felt like I had absolutely nothing to fear. God HAD this ... unquestionably, 100%, and without a doubt. He had shown me an abundance of proof. I slept soundly that night.
The next day, the surgery went ultra smooth. I was totally relaxed (with a little help from Ativan!) and just felt God's presence in that exam room the entire time. They stitched me up, bandaged me and sent me on my way. And, now, all that's left to do is to pray and to wait...the rest is up to God!
Goin' to the big D...and don't mean Dallas - Part 1
I have always hated going to the Dermatologist. Ever since I was an awkward teen, prone to breakouts, I had to make the bi-annual trip to the big D. It was the one day that I had to walk out of my house, completely bare-faced and I hated it! My biggest fear was that we'd run into a cute boy I knew from school on our way, or even worse, in the doctor's office. Then, he would see the real ME up close and personal! Ugh.
As I got older, I still hated the dermatologist because now I was in my 20's and still fighting acne. It was even more embarrassing to walk into the examination room and have the doctor take a second look, maybe even a bit puzzled ... like he was expecting someone, er, perhaps a little younger.
Then, I hit 30 and the visits still continued. Stress, Pregnancy, Post-pregnancy and MS had all had their way with me that decade and it showed up on my face!
What really sucks is when you have to go the dermatologist in your 40's. There was something about hormones and pre-menopause that was wreaking havoc on my chin, turning it into a frickin' battlezone. Thank God for a little miracle drug called Spironolactone that has given me new hope and a newfound sense of self esteem. My chin no longer looks like a big ol' red volcano oozing with lava! Gross, I know!
But, do you want to know what really, really sucks? Going to the dermatologist for your yearly, routine body scan and having her ask in a very serious tone, "how long has this pink spot been on your back?" I wasn't really prepared for what she said next. I mean, I was just there on an obligatory visit, squeezing this appointment in between 2 others on a workday afternoon. I was busy. I would have gladly traded a full face of zits, in front of a cute boy nonetheless, for the news she was about to give me. Funny how your biggest fears change as you get older.
I've had body scans in the past, I've had moles burned off, bumps shaved down and the tip of my nose biopsied. But, this time it was different. She wanted to schedule surgery. She wanted to take a big ol' football-shaped slice out of my back and sew it up with a bunch of stitches. She called it basal cell carcinoma which we all know is just a fancy name for cancer.
The silliest things came into my mind. How will I wear my favorite dress style - the halter - with a big, ugly scar on my back? Were my summer days, lounging by the pool, over for good? What about boating, rafting or kayaking? Could I still do these things or would I be banned to a life of boring indoor activities and pasty skin? Then, the real questions started to surface...What if they don't get it all and it spreads? What if I die before I turn 50? What if I don't get to see my kids get married or see their kids? The list was endless. And, I couldn't let me my mind go there...
As I got older, I still hated the dermatologist because now I was in my 20's and still fighting acne. It was even more embarrassing to walk into the examination room and have the doctor take a second look, maybe even a bit puzzled ... like he was expecting someone, er, perhaps a little younger.
Then, I hit 30 and the visits still continued. Stress, Pregnancy, Post-pregnancy and MS had all had their way with me that decade and it showed up on my face!
What really sucks is when you have to go the dermatologist in your 40's. There was something about hormones and pre-menopause that was wreaking havoc on my chin, turning it into a frickin' battlezone. Thank God for a little miracle drug called Spironolactone that has given me new hope and a newfound sense of self esteem. My chin no longer looks like a big ol' red volcano oozing with lava! Gross, I know!
But, do you want to know what really, really sucks? Going to the dermatologist for your yearly, routine body scan and having her ask in a very serious tone, "how long has this pink spot been on your back?" I wasn't really prepared for what she said next. I mean, I was just there on an obligatory visit, squeezing this appointment in between 2 others on a workday afternoon. I was busy. I would have gladly traded a full face of zits, in front of a cute boy nonetheless, for the news she was about to give me. Funny how your biggest fears change as you get older.
I've had body scans in the past, I've had moles burned off, bumps shaved down and the tip of my nose biopsied. But, this time it was different. She wanted to schedule surgery. She wanted to take a big ol' football-shaped slice out of my back and sew it up with a bunch of stitches. She called it basal cell carcinoma which we all know is just a fancy name for cancer.
The silliest things came into my mind. How will I wear my favorite dress style - the halter - with a big, ugly scar on my back? Were my summer days, lounging by the pool, over for good? What about boating, rafting or kayaking? Could I still do these things or would I be banned to a life of boring indoor activities and pasty skin? Then, the real questions started to surface...What if they don't get it all and it spreads? What if I die before I turn 50? What if I don't get to see my kids get married or see their kids? The list was endless. And, I couldn't let me my mind go there...
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Dear Dad
Today is Father's Day so, I wanted to pay tribute to the man who raised me, who got me through my teen age years, who paid my way through college, paid for my big catholic wedding (even though, he tried to talk me into eloping and taking the ten grand!) and to this day, is still the Greatest Man I Know.
My dad was raised in a non-affection-showing family. Hugs were not the norm, Kisses were a little awkward and saying "I Love You" was ... well, sort of like saying "There is no Santa Claus to a 2-year old." You get the idea.
Growing up, I always remember my dad working hard. He always did what was best for our family. He loved my mama. He provided well for his 6 kids. I remember one particular summer when we were vacationing at the beach, he had to head back home to work for a few days. When he returned to the beach house, he asked me to come outside and help him with something in the front seat. To my astonishment and surprise, my BEST FRIEND, Paula was hiding under a blanket in the front seat! That was by far, one of the best surprises I've ever received...to this day! I often think about that and wonder how in the world he came up with the idea, how he made it happen and just how much he must have loved me in order to execute such a surprise! It always makes me smile.
He may not have been uber affectionate, or have said the actual words, "I Love You" very often, if at all...but, I always knew that he did. It was the little things he did that spoke louder than anything. The memories I have are of a happy childhood...of a secure and joyful home life. I never wondered where our next meal was coming from and I went to bed happy every single night. When I recall my growing years, I always smile and think fondly of a life well lived.
So, on this special day, I want to say thank you, Dad...for all you've done for me. Big and small. But, I would have to say, most of all, thank you for loving my mama and showing us all what a good marriage looks like. You can't teach that stuff but, you can model it for your children and that is exactly what you have done. I am forever grateful for that gift. And, so lucky to have a father like you.
Your loving daughter...Margery Eileen
My dad was raised in a non-affection-showing family. Hugs were not the norm, Kisses were a little awkward and saying "I Love You" was ... well, sort of like saying "There is no Santa Claus to a 2-year old." You get the idea.
Growing up, I always remember my dad working hard. He always did what was best for our family. He loved my mama. He provided well for his 6 kids. I remember one particular summer when we were vacationing at the beach, he had to head back home to work for a few days. When he returned to the beach house, he asked me to come outside and help him with something in the front seat. To my astonishment and surprise, my BEST FRIEND, Paula was hiding under a blanket in the front seat! That was by far, one of the best surprises I've ever received...to this day! I often think about that and wonder how in the world he came up with the idea, how he made it happen and just how much he must have loved me in order to execute such a surprise! It always makes me smile.
He may not have been uber affectionate, or have said the actual words, "I Love You" very often, if at all...but, I always knew that he did. It was the little things he did that spoke louder than anything. The memories I have are of a happy childhood...of a secure and joyful home life. I never wondered where our next meal was coming from and I went to bed happy every single night. When I recall my growing years, I always smile and think fondly of a life well lived.
So, on this special day, I want to say thank you, Dad...for all you've done for me. Big and small. But, I would have to say, most of all, thank you for loving my mama and showing us all what a good marriage looks like. You can't teach that stuff but, you can model it for your children and that is exactly what you have done. I am forever grateful for that gift. And, so lucky to have a father like you.
Your loving daughter...Margery Eileen
Cheers, Dad!
photo taken St. Patrick's Day 2013
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Not on my bucket list
Recently, my girlfriends and I went on an 8 hour road trip to San Francisco to run the Bay 2 Breakers on my birthday (see previous blog). I thought it would be fun if we all jotted down, ahead of time, our Top 10 Bucket List Items. Turns out it was a fabulous idea...we chatted about them throughout the weekend, made reference to them over many cocktails, and on the way home, we talked more in depth about them. Our Bucket List items turned into deep conversation about the things we love, the things that matter to us and just brought us all a little bit closer. I had also printed out a list from the internet entitled: "100 Things you should do before you die" and brought it with me. I read it aloud to my friends on our way home. It was fun to hear my friend's experiences, stories and dreams in relation to the items on the list. Stuff you don't really know until you ask. It was very eye-opening and fun! And, I'd highly recommend it for your next road trip!
Here's my Top 10:
Now, that brings me to things that are NOT on my bucket list! Topping that list would be:
Anyhoo, I signed the waiver (that should have been my first clue) and hopped up on the bull (in my cute little western skirt and cowboy boots!)...smiled for the camera (and all of facebook to see) and held on tightly. The next thing I knew, I was on my head, skirt up over it and all I could think of as I lay there was "Oh my god, if it hurts this much now, I don't want to be me in the morning!!" I somehow got myself upright, straightened out my cute lil' skirt and marched on over to the bartender and demanded my free T-shirt! She just smiled and said, "You earned it, honey...and by the way, I saw your thong!" Ugh. Little did she know, I was wearing my granny panties but, the force of the bull must have made 'em look ... well, umm, a little skimpier!
I now know that I am waaaaay too damn old to just randomly hop up on some Robo Bull and go for a ride! For heaven's sake, I'm not 24 anymore. There are some things that people just don't want to see when they are out enjoying themselves on a Thursday night. So, for all of you who were innocent bystanders to the "mess" that was me the other night. I am truly sorry.
Bucket Lists are great. They are good way to chart your growth. It's good to have something to work towards. But, I would recommend writing down all the items that are ON your list and maybe even the ones that are NOT on your list...and in my case, laminating it and carrying it around on a binder ring on my belt or something. That way, I will never find myself in this position ever again...
Here's my Top 10:
- Run a Half (check. did that twice! Hey, does that count as a full marathon?)
- Hike South Sister (the 3rd largest peak in Oregon. done. checked off my list for good!)
- Run a race on my bday (done. Bay 2 B!)
- Zip line in Costa Rica (I want to go there for a yoga retreat on my 50th bday!)
- Try a tri! (I wanted to do a sprint tri this July, but chickened out! I don't swim and I only own a cruiser, so the only leg I could truly do is the 5k...guess I need to invest in a new bike and some swim lessons before I check that one off!)
- Eat Lobster in Cape Cod (for some reason New England has always held a special place in my heart.)
- Visit NY City and go to the Live with Kelly and Michael show! (Kelly is my hero!! Would love to meet her!)
- Do a run in the wine country (Oregon, California, Washington, doesn't really matter where. I just want to have lots of wine at the finish line)
- Run the Eugene Half (where my husband and I went to college and my son is going now...)
- Get one of my blogs published (but, I guess I need to have more than 17 followers before that happens!)
Now, that brings me to things that are NOT on my bucket list! Topping that list would be:
- Running a Full Marathon
- Riding in an ambulance
- Spending any time in prison
Anyhoo, I signed the waiver (that should have been my first clue) and hopped up on the bull (in my cute little western skirt and cowboy boots!)...smiled for the camera (and all of facebook to see) and held on tightly. The next thing I knew, I was on my head, skirt up over it and all I could think of as I lay there was "Oh my god, if it hurts this much now, I don't want to be me in the morning!!" I somehow got myself upright, straightened out my cute lil' skirt and marched on over to the bartender and demanded my free T-shirt! She just smiled and said, "You earned it, honey...and by the way, I saw your thong!" Ugh. Little did she know, I was wearing my granny panties but, the force of the bull must have made 'em look ... well, umm, a little skimpier!
I now know that I am waaaaay too damn old to just randomly hop up on some Robo Bull and go for a ride! For heaven's sake, I'm not 24 anymore. There are some things that people just don't want to see when they are out enjoying themselves on a Thursday night. So, for all of you who were innocent bystanders to the "mess" that was me the other night. I am truly sorry.
Bucket Lists are great. They are good way to chart your growth. It's good to have something to work towards. But, I would recommend writing down all the items that are ON your list and maybe even the ones that are NOT on your list...and in my case, laminating it and carrying it around on a binder ring on my belt or something. That way, I will never find myself in this position ever again...
Oh Lordy, someone thinks they're 40.
"I'm much too young to feel this damn old."
-Garth Brooks
Friday, May 24, 2013
Bay To Breakers, Baby!
Me and two girlfriends went on a road trip last weekend. We drove 8 hours to the Bay Area to run Bay to Breakers on my 48th birthday! It was the best time. A Girls Road Trip! A birthday I'll never forget.
We left after school got out on a Thursday...our car all decked out with "Bay To Breakers, Baby!" written in white shoe polish on the back.
We drove, we laughed, we talked. We stopped at In 'n Out Burger! (Yumm! We don't have those in Oregon!) We filled up our tank in the pouring rain and we laughed as a car full of young boys honked and hollered at us (surely because of our FUN rear window, not because of our extreme HOTNESS!)
We pulled into our friends' house at almost midnight, tired and rummy expecting to go straight to bed. Instead, we stayed up till almost 3am chatting, laughing, making new memories and planning our wine tasting tour the next day.
We awoke the next day. It was a glorious, sunny day in the East Bay. We went for our last training run...3 miles thru the neighborhood streets of Danville. We came back, showered and took off on our next adventure! Wine tasting thru Napa Valley.
We had an incredible day. Wine tasting. Private tours. VIP service at our friends' restaurants. A drive along Napa's beautiful Silverado Trail. We ate until we couldn't take one more bite. We drank until our hearts content. We even mustered up the energy to hit a local bar and dance a little bit...before we retired for the evening.
Then, it was up and at 'em early the next day! We drove into the city and hopped a ferry from Larkspur to SF for a day of shopping, walking, eating, drinking and exploring! It was so fun! Each of us had a few things on our list of what we wanted to do or see or eat! We crossed most of them off our list, including a hike up to Coit Tower. Wow! What a view!
A cab ride to Chinatown...beers on the sidewalk in North Beach...and fresh crab on the bay!
It was truly the kind of day you dream about in the city.
Then, we headed back into Larkspur on the ferry.
We had decided that day (over several cold beers!) that we were not serious about running the Bay To Breakers. We were more concerned about having fun and exploring our newfound terrain, than we were about getting a PR! So, we asked our host to take us to a dive bar! Turns out, there are no dive bars in Larkspur but, we had a great time at the local watering hole, The Silver Peso! We had planned to have one beer and then, call it a night. Well...one beer turned to two and two turned to a round of kamikazes!! And, by that time, well, it was my birthday ... so, we continued to celebrate well into the wee hours of the night (er, morning!) We headed back to where we were staying...and crawled into bed around 2am. The alarm clock rudely jolted us out of bed a couple hours later and we were scrambling around in the dark to fix a cup of coffee, down a bagel and hop on the 530 ferry to SF for our race!
When we got off the ferry, we walked up Market Street to the Start Line. Feeling a bit queasy, I must say. Not quite sure how the next 7.4 miles would go. But, we sure looked cute in our homemade tutus!
And, then within moments, we were OFF! It was such a feeling of exhilaration to be running this race that we had talked about for so long, that we felt as if we were being propelled through the streets. Running was actually easier than walking. We passed several naked buns (my friend even slapped one while passing by!), the sun was beating down already and the road loomed ahead like a birthday gift waiting to be unwrapped! The lure of the ocean beach calling our names...We passed live bands, more nakedness, fun costumes, gorgeous waterfalls and folks who should not be wearing tutus! It was so much fun - the first time I have ever run with my camera in my hand - not wanting to miss a thing!
We ran. We walked. We stopped for water. We chatted with folks and we took a ton of pictures! I had a sign on my back that said "It's My Bday!" so, I had several people serenading me along the way and many, many more saying "Happy Birthday". It was so much fun. I was sweating so much...my shirt was soaking wet. I was certain that if I wrung it out, it would produce a very large and strong cocktail!!
Finally, we began to smell the ocean air, feel the salt air on our lips....and we saw the infamous windmills off to the right. We rounded a bend and came face to face with the glorious San Francisco Coastline....or Breakers as it is referred to. The three of us crossed the Finish Line, hand in hand. I think it was somewhere around an hour 43 minutes for the 7 mile run. We quickly grabbed water and found our way to the beach where we plopped ourselves down in the warm sand and took a nice, long nap!
It was the perfect end to a perfect race! And, one of my best birthdays yet!
"That's the thing about running - your greatest runs are rarely measured by racing success. They are moments in time when running allows you to see how wonderful your life is." -Kara Goucher
Sunday, May 5, 2013
the run that would not be
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.!
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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