JTB: Finding Magic

Miles: 1700something....

I have never been good at doing what is good... for me.  I use things to the extreme, I demand excellence from myself in every area of my life, and I am my most merciless critic.... but a few Saturdays ago,  walking away from a race my body was not capable of running well.... was the easiest thing in the world... when the time finally came.

I have been training 2 years for the marathon I have not been able to run. I have put so much of my life on hold.  Invested time and effort into running miles upon miles.... almost 4000 miles have gone into the last 2 years.... in addition to time, I have poured every piece of my heart and soul into this training. For a day that STILL has not come to fruition.  But, when my body is hurt.... I have learned to be selfish. I will not criticize myself and I will be happy and proud of all that I have learned, gained, and accomplished along the way.  I will not dwell on things that were not meant to be.... and I will look to the future and what I know will eventually happen if I keep pursuing my goals.

This past Chicago, I spent 20 miles trying to ignore the pain in my foot... completely unaware of how hard the heat and humidity was making the race... I walked for 2 miles after that 20.... timing chip in hand ready to throw it and DNF the race.... I sent my coach and my team a message saying I am out. Just as I was about to toss the chip.... my youngest sent me a text.... "go mommy... I can't wait to see you cross the finish.... I am following you the whole way"! F#@%.  Really. and at mile 23, after walking and physically and mentally giving up... I started to run. one. more.time. 3 miles. I thought "if I can get through child birth.... surely.... I can do this. I had one goal when I came to Chicago this year... to finish strong.... let's see if I can make that happen."Oh GOD it HURT to start again.

Running is a good parallel for life.. I work with a coach who actually makes a lot of great things happen for elite runners as well as novice.... if I ever questioned if this is the right coach for me..... his comment before this last marathon I had to walk away from, solidified the deal. " Running feeds the soul at times and rips your heart out at others,  just like life."

It seems the great runners all have these incredible demons they battle.... these infallible existential mental torture chambers that they can fight and eventually overcome.  I have no demons.  And I have struggled here, as when my races get tough.. there is only pain.... and I can only fight to not give in to the pain.... which can be overbearing and all consuming.

So I have searched for my demons.... maybe if I can find them.... I can beat them.... but I can't seem to find where they are.... my suffering is embedded in memories of when life actually did rip my heart out.... and in my search for demons.... I only find my most painful memories, the ones I may never defeat. The ones that still make me cry, make me bitter, make me struggle with forgiveness, and friendships, and life in general.

My demons are not these scary, fiery beasts that come at me.... they are rather a 4 year old child crying at the window for what they lost and can't have back.... my demons are a little boy who wants to practice baseball when I had no idea how.... watching the light literally leave your 8 year olds eyes and seeing her belief in magic and unicorns turn to cynical and realistic sarcasm about life..... but first she would cry...one last time before she turned off her unicorn nightlight forever.....or giving my oldest a cell phone when she was leaving and telling her to call if...... she needed me to pick the 3 of them up... please.... call..... and praying she understood what I meant....

My demons are trying to pick up a life that you never thought would fall apart.... and not relying on resilience.... to get us through... but rather praying that I had enough love and enough strength to be everything these little people needed me to be at all times.... god I felt so small for so long.... running made me feel like I could overcome anything..... that's why I ran.... always....even when I was younger...before life got complicated...and because somewhere in there it made that feeling of my heart being ripped out... some what less painful.

On those last 3 miles of Chicago... I thought of my youngest.... mile 24.... my strong and fierce baby girl... determined to win and be the best she can be... such a hard worker.... telling me everyone is capable of doing whatever to is they want to do.... they just don't realize it... if you work hard enough anything is possible. Mile 25... my son.... the boy with the biggest heart I have ever seen.  I remembered when he wanted to play football but could not because of a bone density problem... I remembered how brave he was through all of the testing and the trips to the Children's hospital and the many broken bones.... I remembered how he always helps and stands up for everyone, I remembered the baseball championship game when all of the boys were practicing with their Dad's and he asked me to come throw with him. I can't throw.... but he was so patient with me. He asked me to pitch to him in front of all of those people.... and he showed me how... until I got it right. Mile 26... and here I started to cry.... it wasn't the pain... but there was a lot of pain... Mile 26... I thought of my oldest... what to say to a girl who was once so happy, so content, so eager to learn and to please... who loved unicorns and magic and ponies... who had to grow up way to soon.... a girl who seeks my approval and recognition but will never admit it... so talented and bright... and so bitter.  If only i could change these things for her... but she was probably the one that felt it all the most.... once upon a time, in a different life, she was closest to her Dad. on the last .2..... I ran for me. I ran for everything I had done to get to this moment... and I ran for the good that has come from the choices I have made... I ran for how strong I knew I was... I ran to finish!  and I finished number 9.... and I will not say 1 bad thing about how this race went down... because.... it happened... and that is enough.

I get a lot of criticism for being honest about things..... it is always shocking to me how harshly some will judge me..... when they have no idea of what goes on in my real life.... and I use to criticize myself pretty relentlessly.... until one day.... I just stopped.... and I realized.... I don't want to feel bad....  about anything.... least of all the the things that make me feel strong....and to those who think they have the right to judge me or criticize.... I welcome it.... your opinions mean nothing to the kind of life I am trying to live.

So I walked away... once again... because it was the right thing to do.... because I have learned that the only person who will ever do the right thing for me... is me.... I let go of the dream.... but I held on to the magic... the belief or rather the feeling that I can do this and I will do this when the time is right. I am not sure if my demons can be over come.... but I would like to think so... and I would like to think that one day.... we can all have a little magic... not just the magic that comes from misery... but the kind that comes from believing in unicorns and rainbows and all things good.