Mile 1

The first full week of chemoradiation is in the books. I want to celebrate, to feel one step closer to being well. I do…and I don’t. The sticker motivation was strong – your messages of love and support really made a difference.

Mile 1 has always been filled with the excitement of the beginning: race day is finally here! All the training, all the planning, the nutrition, everything one can prepare in order to have a great race. I remember Boston 2014; I had nursed an injury in my quad for much of my training. My forever marathon partner was waiting for me, cheering on runners in Ashland. My quad was already hurting. I found her; she looked into my eyes and reminded me to take one step at a time. She believed in me, she would track me along the way, and she would celebrate my finish. And that was enough. On I went!

Mile 1 has never felt challenging. Can I muster up the energy to keep going for this new race? Yes, yes, yes – I will, I can, and still, sometimes it feels hard. To know there are many, many, so many miles in front of me sometimes takes my breath away, and with it, my courage. Remembering that I’m an effing champion empowers me.

The photo is from Boston 2014 (ironically fundraising for Dana Farber) just after the famous “left on Boylston”.  When you make that turn, you can taste the finish line, it.is.right.there.  The tears were those of joy (I finished!), pain (ouch!), and the emotion embraced that year by all of Boston and the global running community, “we will run this race again”.  I know I will arrive at my own “left on Boylston” – for now, let’s get to Mile 2!

The sun is gloriously shining this morning, daffodils are up everywhere, and the birds are heralding spring’s arrival. Feeling hopeful is easy today.