I think I’ve said this sentence about one thousand times over the past few months. First when I came home from a PR in Paris and strained my hamstring during a six mile run a week later. Stretching, cryotherapy, acupuncture, chiropractic, spinning, walking. Through it all I kept saying, “I’d feel so much better if I could just go for a run.”
Six weeks later I got the cancer diagnosis. I went and ran two miles as fast as I could that day. My chiropractor asked me how my hamstring felt. “I don’t know,” I said. “I was running so everything would be numb.”
(Today was the Dallas marathon – I had planned to run the half, but I spectated instead. I don’t know who these people are, but see how happy they are to run?)
I do have a positive attitude about treatment, but I’m scared, too. And I’ve cried a lot. In my car. In the shower. At random inconvenient moments. And a lot of times when I first wake up in the morning and snuggle up with my husband. And inevitably I tell him, “I just want to go for a run.”
The day of my CT scan and MRI, I had lunch with my running friend Chrissie. I told her, “I would feel so much better if I could go run eight miles.” “Why eight?” she said. I didn’t really know, I told her.
But I do know, I think. It’s not just about running. It’s about getting back to who I was before. This summer I was the healthiest and happiest I’ve been in a long time — maybe ever — and those long run Fridays, up before dawn and out to the Katy Trail for 8 or 10 or 12 miles, those are the days I miss. That’s what I want back.
I just want to go for a run. A few weeks ago they feared that the cancer had spread to my bones, and I faced the possibility that I might never run again. Luckily, it hadn’t. But still, there’s a long road ahead of me. Tomorrow morning I’m having a bilateral mastectomy. After that I will have radiation, and probably chemotherapy, and honestly no one can tell me how this is going to go. I guess in that way it’s kind of like a marathon after all. All I can do is line up at the start and take it one mile at a time.
I’m taking these three unnecessary things with me to the hospital tomorrow.The Goofy medal to remind me that I can do things that I think are impossible. The Paris half medal to remind me of happy things in the world like Paris, and Disney, and friends. And Danerys because she is most definitely a member of #teambadass.
I don’t know what I’m going to do with this blog, if anything. For now I just plan to use it to get some of these things out of my head. It may not be much of a running blog for a while, but it will be. And I will be a runner again. Soon.