Getting There

Almost 8 1/2 months ago, I finished the Girlfriend's Half Marathon.  I made it through the miles feeling like absolute garbage and just about passed out after crossing the finish line.  It was the wake up call that I needed.  God knew it.  I knew it.

Days later, a Groupon came up for a local Naturopath.  I emailed my dear friend and my sweet husband to see what they thought.  I don't care much for Dr.'s as they are very good at saying, "I don't know what the problem is.  Let's try this..."  That road continues until they still don't know what's wrong and you've spent a lot of money on nothing.  For years, I've thought about going to a Naturopath but hated to spend the money.  This Groupon made me take the plunge.

My visit with the Naturopath was amazing.  I felt like I'd made a new best friend and felt like I was in very capable hands.  Hands that had a plan.  Hands that had me feeling hopeful.  Deep breath and off we go.

Her diagnosis?  My thyroid was pooped, my adrenals shot, I was calcium and zinc deficient.  And, to top it off, the results of my food intolerance test showed that I am intolerant of all fruits with the exception of tomatoes, rhubarb and all melons.  My body also does not tolerate corn and potato consumed within 4 hours of each other.  She also recommended I cut back on my mileage to allow my body to rest and rebuild.

Excuse me?

I received the results of the food intolerance test late on a Friday afternoon, after reading through the extensive list, I sat down with a big, juicy, Fuji apple and savored every single last bite.  And then, I said goodbye.

Three days after removing all offending foods from my diet I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.  I looked different.  Rather, my belly looked different.  I stepped on the scale and was shocked to see I was down 5 lbs.  Not 5 actual pounds, but 5 pounds worth of inflammation.

Five days after removing said foods, I started my period.  A period with ZERO cramping.  I asked my Naturopath if that could really be because of my food.  Yes.  It can.  My body had been so focused on the foods I was putting into it that it did not like and therefore, I got to deal with all sorts of fun. :)  Along with removing said foods, I've also started seed cycling.  An amazing thing that all females should know about.  It truly has helped me to have little to no PMS symptoms. 

Natural thyroid meds...
Adrenal meds...
Vitamins...
Seeds...
Fish oil...
Evening primrose oil...
Probiotics...

My drawer in the kitchen grew with my special meds and special foods...

While I was excited to start feeling better, I was a bit overwhelmed with my food options.  So many things that were in my daily diet were now off limits...  My beloved apples and bananas and Chobani yogurt!  And, as I started to add running back into my life, I realized I had a bit of a problem...

All my running fuel was now off limits.

No more Nuun...

No more Gu...

No more bananas...

Yikes.

I tried running with sun/almond butter and found that was great up to about 10-12 miles.  I tried Pocket Fuel and that got me to about 15 miles.

On one of my long run attempts, I had Pocket Fuel and water.  That was the run that had me covered in salt and cramping and crying by the time I reached my car.  That was the run that had me realizing that electrolytes are incredibly important.

The next long run, I armed myself with salt pills and pocket fuel.  That also ended with intense cramping and a mile short of my goal.

On my final long run attempt before Eugene, I tried Honey Stinger Gels and salt pills.  Mile 15, I quit with intense leg cramps and tears falling on the side of the road.  Ugly shuffling to 20 miles.

My dear friend did some research and said it pointed to low potassium. 

I headed to the store and got a potassium supplement...

Eugene.  Yeah, that happened.  My dear friend told me I needed to talk to my Naturopath about my nutrition.  That I needed to figure it out.  At the time, I wasn't sure it was necessary.  I wasn't sure I would want to endure that pain again.  And, of course, I was already looking forward to another 26.2 less than 24 hours after crossing the finish line.

Since Eugene, I've been able to make it about 8 miles before my legs start to cramp.  I've been focusing on getting potassium into my body in both potassium rich foods and with supplements.  And, on Friday, I finally went and had a visit with my Naturopath.

As I explained all that had been happening, she had me go into the exam room with her.  She tested my calcium and I was shocked by what she had to say.  Shocked because at my last visit, my calcium was good.  However, now,  I was incredibly deficient!  She went on to explain that while my nutrition/potassium/electrolytes may be an issue, she suspected the lack of calcium in my body was the culprit.  As I have read more about calcium deficiency, I'm fairly certain that has absolutely been my problem.  It would also explain why my legs have been aching throughout the day on most days.

Go figure.

Every time I take my big dose of calcium I imagine it going straight to my legs.  I look forward to days of no leg cramping and runs that go on for miles and miles.

I'm shocked by how complicated it all is.  My head wants to tell my body to do one thing.  My body tells my head to...  well, it says, "no".

In my quest to get my body to follow my mind, I'm exploring new foods and finding new favorites...

Kale...

Vega...

And, much to my Mom's surprise and pure joy...

Sauerkraut straight out of the jar :)

Here's to getting there!

My Favorite

^"8 Now Amalek came and fought with Israel in Rephidim. ⁹ And Moses said to Joshua, “Choose us some men and go out, fight with Amalek. Tomorrow I will stand on the top of the hill with the rod of God in my hand.” ¹⁰ So Joshua did as Moses said to him, and fought with Amalek. And Moses, Aaron, and Hur went up to the top of the hill. ¹¹ And so it was, when Moses held up his hand, that Israel prevailed; and when he let down his hand, Amalek prevailed. ¹² But Moses’ hands became heavy; so they took a stone and put it under him, and he sat on it. And Aaron and Hur supported his hands, one on one side, and the other on the other side; and his hands were steady until the going down of the sun. ¹³ So Joshua defeated Amalek and his people with the edge of the sword."  Exodus 17:8-13

 

I love this picture painted for us.  A picture of support.  It is one of my favorites...

 

I love being able to hold my friend's arms as they get tired.  To pray for them.  To believe when they are unable to.  It is one of my favorites...

 

I have a friend.  I love her.  She has a husband.  I love him.  I love that when she is frustrated with her husband, when times are tough I can say, "I love you BOTH and I know that it will be okay.  I will hold your arms up when you cannot."

 

God is loving and gracious.  He didn't drop us on our own island to fend for ourselves.  Yes, He is always there and that is wonderful.  But, He didn't leave us alone here on earth.  He blessed us with friends and family to support us.  To hold our arms when we are tired.  

 

I've always looked at that in a spiritual way.  I believe when my friends cannot.  I hope when my friends cannot.  I pray without ceasing.  It is a battle that I am thankful to be a part of.

 

On Sunday, I was held up.  I suppose you could say it wasn't just my arms though...  It was my legs.  It was my heart. 

 

My friends believed when I did not... 

 

My friends hoped when I could not...   

 

My friends held me up every step of the way.

 

Telling me we would go until I could no longer take another step.

 

Telling me to try running sideways to alleviate the pain in my legs.

 

Telling me, "Go, Mere GO!", praying for a second wind, to "hang in there"...

 

Tears in my eyes...

 

Joy in my heart...

 

My cup overflows.

 

I am overwhelmed with God's goodness.

 

And, even as the marathon is over, my friends continue to hold my arms.  Speaking words into my heart and soul.

 

Loving me...

 

Encouraging me.

 

And sometimes, even hitting me over the head :)

 

Sunday was painful.

 

Sunday was a complete blessing.

 

Sunday will always be held close to my heart.

 

And truly, I so look forward to another 26.2 with God and my friends right by my side :)

 

 

 

 

Thoughts From The Back Of The Pack

I went into Sunday not knowing what to expect.

I was hopeful.

I was anxious.

I was excited.

The race started, I turned my music on and off I went...

Smiling.

Believing.

Thankful.

Talking to God with every step...

Thanking Him.

Praising Him.

Praying for friends.

I decided not to look at my watch.  To run on feel.  The word "believe" kept playing through my head.  I started a bit behind the 4 hour pacer and at some point, I passed him.  I thought about slowing down, about playing it safe and then I heard, "believe".  So, I kept going.

Singing.

Smiling.

Praising.

Praying.

Then, mile 9, just after the hill at mile 8, my legs started complaining.

Believe...

Mile 10, my Ipod stopped.  It was time to GU.  I made it down a little hill and pulled to the side.  My Ipod was dead.  The songs making me smile were gone.  I choked down my GU and carried on.

It was painful. 

I wanted to be done.

I could not imagine finishing this race with the way my legs were feeling.

Walk.

Run.

Ugly shuffle.

Done.

I didn't have my phone with me so, at one point near mile 13 I asked a spectator if I could use their phone.  I called Marnee and let her know where I was.  They were 2 miles away.  She said, "we'll see you really soon, we're only 2 miles away."  I said, "yeah, I'll just sprint to you.  I'll be right there."  Hear the sarcasm?

I was ticked.

Not at her.

At my legs.

Mile 15.  Marnee, Ashley, Devon and Ryan all give me hugs.

I'm done.

Marnee says, "we'll just keep going until you can't take another step."

The comments she heard leave my mouth...

"This is stupid."

"This is not fun."

"This is not my happy."

"This sucks."

"I want to get in the car."

Her words...

"You've got this."

"You're amazing."

"You can do it."

Me...

"I don't want to."

"I hurt"

At some point, I talk to my sweet husband.  He lets me know that whatever I decide to do is okay.  No one will be disappointed if I quit.  He loves me.  He encourages me. 

I keep walking.

I'm mad.

My legs cramp in waves.  Much like labor, the pain comes and goes.  We shuffled, we walked.  I would feel my legs start to cramp.  My muscles would tighten, I would cry.  I would stop.  I sat on the grass.  The entire time wanting to be done...

Thinking of ways to escape.

Embarrassed.

Hurting.

Done.

Along the path, we can see the 1/2 Marathoners.  They have just passed mile 12.  They are less than a mile from the finish.  Marnee and I are still a long way from the finish.  She tells me I have a choice.  I can choose to be done.  Only a mile away.  Or, we can keep going.  I stop.  I think.  I keep going.  I feel like I'm going to puke.  My legs are cramping.  Her phone rings as I bend over to heave...

She's on the phone.

I'm hurting.

I start walking back to the fork in the road.

I quit.

Then, I get ticked.

Embarrassed.

I turn around.

I end up adding 1/4 mile to my race.

I keep going.

I tell Marnee, "I'd rather quit than suck.  I don't want to do this."  Through tears, "I hurt so bad!"

We keep going.

Me hurting.

Her encouraging... 

In her khaki shorts. 

Her spectator clothes. 

She's right beside me. 

She tells me I'm amazing.

I say, "yeah, uh huh."

All the while, thinking I'm far from amazing.

Walking.

Shuffling.

Stopping.

Cramping.

Crying.

Feeling muscles hurt in my legs that I've never felt before.

The top of this foot.

The heel of that foot.

My glutes.

My quads.

Thankful for the compression socks I bought at the expo as they kept my calves feeling better than the rest of me.

We encouraged those that we passed and those that passed us.

They responded the same way I did.

At one point I told a guy, "hey, you don't get to respond like that!  That's my response!  There's only room for so much negativity on this course!!"

He smiled.  He laughed.  We all kept going.

I formed a plan and shared it with Marnee.

When Harmony finished, I want Ryan to come get us.  I'm done.  The only way I will finish is if we only have 2 miles left.  I can suck it up for 2 miles.

"Are you sure??"

Yes.

I'm done.

This is stupid.

Marnee calls Devon and tells her I'm done.  She tells her the plan.  Maybe she tells Ashley too.  A bit later, Marnee's phone rings.  I hear...

"Yep.  Okay.  Uh huh."

"Who was that?"

"Ashely"

"What did she say?"

"Um...  Harmony is boycotting your escape plan."

"Excuse me???  What did you just say??"

I stared at her in disbelief.  Her words made no sense.

"Harmony isn't letting you quit."

I.  Was.  Ticked.

We kept going.

Marnee encouraging me even as her body ached.

I cried.

I hurt.

I just wanted to be done.

We kept going.

As we shuffled along I realized something.

Everyone we encouraged gave the same response...

Ticked.

Hopeless.

Hurting.

I told Marnee, "you know what's so crazy about being here.  THIS was no ones goal.  I can guarantee that these people did not enter this race with this pace in mind.  THIS is not what they wanted."

After the bombings in Boston, I heard one of the commentators say that the "stragglers", the "slower, recreational runners", were the ones that did not finish.  I was ticked when I heard those statements.  Ticked because, clearly the commentator had no clue what goes into qualifying for Boston.  Clearly, he had never ran a marathon.  Please don't disregard us "slower recreational runners." 

It's hard work in the front of the pack.  And, quite honestly, it's hard work in the back too.

26.2 miles is still 26.2 miles.

Even if you're doing the ugly shuffle.

Somehow, even though I quit, my friends got me across that finish line.  It was not my doing.  I was carried, pulled and shoved along that course. 

I quit.

My friends didn't.

God didn't.

As we crossed that finish line, Marnee and I hugged and sobbed.  We got our medals and promptly collapsed on the ground in the finishers area.  I laughed as I realized we must have been quite the sight.  All the volunteers could see was a 5:10 half marathon finisher embracing a 5:10 marathon finisher.  Neither of which are stellar performances.  And yet, we were hugging and crying as if we had won the race.

During the painful steps to the finish line Marnee told me I should talk to my Dr. about my nutrition.  Since finding out that I'm intolerant of all fruits except tomatoes, rhubarb and melons, it's been hard fueling my body properly.  My dear friend had done some research after my last, painful, long run and said that everything pointed to low potassium.  I had started taking a supplement, but she suspects it still was not enough.  I told her that if I ever decided to try 26.2 again I would talk to my Dr.  At the time, I wasn't sure I would ever want to try again.

Less than 24 hours later, I was already thinking about next time.

I still cannot embrace any positive comments on this one.  I cannot accept the, "I'm proud of you" or "you're amazing."  Because, quite honestly, I quit.  I did not get to the finish because it was what I wanted.

My friends are amazing.

God is amazing.

I'm a quitter.

It hurts.

However, I am beyond thankful for the weekend.  For some amazing moments that God blessed me with.  For amazing friends that God, in all His goodness, has blessed me with.  For the opportunity to even toe that line in the first place.

I keep wanting to press rewind on the weekend.  To linger in those moments a while longer.  I don't want the pain back (quite frankly, my legs are still screaming at me!) but I want the moments.

For now, the moments sit on my heart.  Filling my cup.  Making me smile.  Moments that take my breath away and bring tears of thankfulness to my eyes.

I cannot believe that even in my moments of being a complete brat, God still chooses to bless me.

He amazes me.

I cannot comprehend it.

God is good even when I am not.

Now, I will rest.  I will look at my nutrition.  I will heal my body.  I will take deep breaths with my Heavenly Papa.  I will smile and be thankful for friends who hold me up and even drag me along.  And, I'll remember those moments in the back of the pack and remember that no matter the pace 26.2 miles is still 26.2 miles.

Flip Flop

It's funny how a marathon in which I have zero expectations is causing my belly such fits...

I have no dreams of a PR (okay, maybe a small one in which the Lord gives me superhero powers and has me bounding, with a smile, across the finish line with a Boston Qualifier)

I have no fear of being sucktastic (I already know that as long am I'm in my "happy" place, I won't suck)

I know that even if I have to do the "ugly shuffle" I can still cross that finish line.

I know that I'm going to have amazing friends cheering from the sidelines and equally amazing ones running the race as well.

I know it's going to be a wonderful weekend full of blessings.

And yet, my belly flip flops.

I think it's the unexpected.

I've read through old posts with a smile and with each post my heart rate slows a bit.  My belly calms a bit and I'm reminded of all the ways that God has blessed me.

I want to tuck it all in my "pocket" for race day.

I think that's it.

I'm worried I'll forget.

That the pain will come and my mind will spiral and I won't remember.

I'm worried I'll get so focused on the pain that I'll forget this...

And this...

And this...

And this

So, I want to tuck it in my "pocket".

I want to focus on the good... 

The blessings...

The gifts...

I want to focus on praying for Harmony and so many others.

I don't know when I'll run another marathon.  I know that I will.  I know that it won't be soon.  This is my one shot for the year and I want to be sure to savor every single moment.

That's it.

My anxiety.  This flip and this flop all boils down to one thing.

I don't want to miss it.

I don't want to miss the awesomeness that God has in store.

Deep breath...

Better now...

God's got this.

Sweet Surprises

Yesterday, was a sweet surprise...

Where my legs were light...

Feet barely touching the ground...

 A smile on my face...

A new route taken...

New hills to conquer...

Effortless miles...

Not watching the clock...

No thoughts of, "I quit" or "I don't want to"...

My last long run before Eugene...

Not caring what the "plan" said...

Just wanting to have fun...

Smiling...

Breathing...

A new friend to run with...

A friend that said as we parted ways, "I would love to run with you again!  You have a great pace!  Your legs are strong!!"  This, from a girl that averages 7:45-8:30 miles.  This, from a girl that doesn't even know the story of my legs...

8 miles at an 8:32 average...

1 mile at 8:10...

1 at 8:12...

Where did that come from?

Peace...

Thankful...

Fun...

Refreshing...

Blessing from God.

You Always Have To Get Back Up

"Rest and get back up.  You always have to get back up.  I am doing an ugly slow shuffle...  Join me"

 

On Friday, I headed out to run my final 20 miler before the Eugene Marathon.  I was excited, I had the fuel that I was hopeful would get me through, the weather was perfect.  However, at 8 miles in, I was ready to take the short cut home and finish at 11.  I heard my phone beep and I looked to see a text from a dear friend. 

 

H:  "10 miles and have to turn around and run home.  Prayers..."

 

I called her immediately and told her I had a case of the "I don't want to's"

 

However, I would finish for her.  I would finish with her.  We may be miles apart, but together, we would do this...  rather, she would drag me to the finish :)

 

At 10 miles in I sent her this...

 

Me:  "Standing at mile 10.  Not wanting to swallow my fuel.  Makes me gag thinking about it.  Mental game for sure..."

 

H:  "You can do it.  Envisioning your strong legs to get me through.  You got this."

 

Me:  "You're the only reason I'm doing this.  I was so excited for this run and now, my head is just not in it.  Next ten will be pounded out for you.  Love you!  You're almost there!"

 

Marnee:  "You are 2 hours in.  Probably have done 14 miles.  Only 6 more!!!  That is two 3-milers.  You got this.  You are strong"

 

Me:  "11.39 in.  Mental.  Don't want to.  Harm texted at 8 miles in.  She was at 10.  Now, it's all for her.  Would love to quit :)"

 

Marnee:  "You will feel great getting 20 in.  You are trained enough, strong enough and dog-gone it.  people like you!  Haha.  You got this.  One mile at a time.  Praying for both you and Harm."

 

For the next few miles, we texted words of encouragement and words sharing the struggle.  And then, after hitting 15 miles.  I called my dear friend Marnee.  Through tears...

 

Me:  "I'm done.  My legs are killing me.  My calves feel like they have tennis balls in them.  I hurt.  I can't do this.  If this was Eugene, I'd still have 11 more.  There's no way I can go 11 more.  I'm so disappointed."

 

She listened.  She told me not to make any decisions right then.  She listened more. 

 

I was done.  I would hobble the last mile home.  I was done.

 

I texted H...

 

Me:  "I'm at 15.  Crying.  Legs are killing me.  Cramped up.  Sitting on a curb.  Disappointed."

 

And then, wise, loving words came from across the miles...

 

H:  "Rest and get back up.  You always have to get back up.  I'm doing an ugly slow shuffle...  Join me"

 

Me:  "Doing my best.  Shuffle on."

 

That was that.  I would shuffle.  I would get it done.  I would not quit.

 

One mile at a time.

 

Me:  "Made it to sixteen.  Going for 17.  Harm told me to join her in the ugly shuffle.  Crap.  I hurt."

 

Marnee:  "I know you do..  You and Harm running the full, ugly or not, will be beautiful to Papa!"

 

Me:  "16.29.  Just swallowed a bug.  Maybe that will help the cramping..."

 

H:  "Proven remedy"

Marnee:  "Depends, what kind of bug? LOL"

 

I shuffled on.  Walking.  Running.  One step at a time. 

 

17.2 I get to my house.  Completely out of water and in pain.  Not done yet.

 

I drink 3/4's of a bottle of Nuun.  Stretch my calves and hop on the treadmill. 

 

I will not quit.

 

Me:  "I'm at 17.2.  Just got home.  Finishing on the treadmill with some Nuun.  Hoping it helps the cramping..."

 

H:  "You can do it"

 

Me:  "That's what you and Marnee say :)"

 

Me:  "18"

 

H:  "Go gadget go!!"

Marnee:  "Two more.  One at a time."

 

Me:  "19"

 

H:  "Almost there"

Marnee:  "One more!!!!!!!!  You can do anything for a mile, right?!?!  Maybe that bug was enough.  So proud of you!!!"

 

Me:  "done"

 

H:  "Hooray"

Marnee:  "Wooooooohoooooo  Amazing!!!  Look what you accomplished.  Big ol' smile on my face."

 

Look what God accomplished...

 

I keep thinking about this run.  About how I would have quit.  God has blessed me with some amazing friends that have just the right words when I need them.  They listen.  They kick my rear.  They encourage.  They make me laugh.  I am blessed.

 

God, Harmony and Marnee carried me through that run.  Rather, God carried me and they gently pushed me.  Knowing my heart.  Knowing my strength.  They pushed, pulled and prodded.

 

I love these words...

 

"Rest and get back up.  You always have to get back up.  I am doing an ugly slow shuffle...  Join me"

 

My heart has been hurting since the Boston Marathon bombings on Monday.  My sweet friend, Devon, finished just 13 minutes earlier.  It all hits so close to home.  I ache for the whole situation.  I am helpless.

 

However, Harmony's words keep playing in my head...

 

"Rest and get back up.  You always have to get back up."

 

It seems that is what the running community is doing.  We're getting up.  Uniting.  Not allowing this evil to consume us.  Groups are being organized across the country - wearing our race shirts, running together, praying together... 

 

From across the county, there isn't much I can do.  But, what I can do is pray.  And that's what I've been doing.  Praying for healing, strength, courage, hope...  Praying!

 

Yesterday, I ran 4.15 miles for 4/15/2013.  I prayed every step.  I will continue to pray.  And, come race day, I will pull strength from Boston and Harmony.  I will push through the pain and the mental games and remind myself to "get back up" when I want to stop.

 

Praying... 

 

Thankful for my Heavenly Papa who is forever faithful...

 

Blessed.

 



Butter, Periods, Babies and Running

Like a suppressed yawn, my tears have waited.

You know the feeling?  You go to yawn and it's not the right time or your yawn is interrupted and when you do try to get that oh-so-satisfying yawn to come, it just won't.  No amount of trying can get that same satisfaction...

My tears.  I worked so hard to suppress them that now that I'm open to them flowing, they won't.  The lump forms in my throat, my eyes start to water, I open my heart and... nothing.  Zip.  Zilch.  Zero.

Deep breath.

On Monday, I felt myself getting a cold.  On Tuesday, Cory, Brenton and I ran errands and as the hours ticked by, my cold got worse.  By Tuesday night it had downright smacked me in the face and I was miserable. 

However, before I was downright miserable, I had a job that needed to be done.  I had committed to making cookies for Jackson's class and the butter was sitting on the counter getting nice and soft.  After dinner I went to start the cookies and noticed that Cory had moved the butter onto the stove to help soften it.  He was trying to be helpful.  I went to pick up the butter and it was far too melted to use for the cookies.  I took a deep breath, knowing Cory was only trying to help, knowing that now I needed to get more butter out to soften, knowing and yet I couldn't calm myself down.  I stepped out of the kitchen and the tears started flowing.  I stood there crying over melted butter...

My world might as well have fallen apart.  

Fast forward a couple of hours when my cold had gotten worse and we're getting ready for bed.  I made my final visit to the toilet and what do you know...  there it was in all it's glory.  My period.  Lovely.  Two days before I was expecting it.  I started to cry...

"Now, I have to be on my period too???  I'm miserable!  I feel like crap!  I HATE my period!!!"

My world might as well have been ending.

I was crying over my period.

Although my week was spent miserably on the couch, I was able to get a smile out of the fact that while I may not have cried about my brother, I was able to at least cry.  Even if it was over the most ridiculous things :)

On Friday, a dear friend stopped by and told me that she was pregnant.  Tears of joy sprang to my eyes and although I had told her to keep her distance due to my cold, I stood crying...

"I just want to hug you!"

Thankfully, she allowed me to hug her.  I just promised not to breathe on her.

Thankful for appropriate tears :)

Yesterday, my cold started to lift a bit and I was able to function better than I had all week.  However, around mid day my congested head told me to lay down.  I turned on the TV and discovered that "Stepmom" was on.  Bring on the ugly tears...

And last night?  PS I Love You played across my TV screen.  And more tears...

Right now, I'm just trying to let those tears come when they want to.  I'm trying to be gracious with myself.  I'm glad that at least I can get a smile from those not so appropriate tears and am glad that at least some of my tears are, in fact, appropriate.  Baby steps :)

As for running?  Oh, how I miss it!  I have not ran in a week and a half.  Between resting last weekend and being sick this week, not one bead of sweat has formed on my brow.  No running shoelaces have been tied.  No miles have been recorded.  Nothing.  And as the days pass, I wonder if my body will know what to do when it is able to run again.  I wonder when I'll get that time with God.  I wonder and I'm so ready... 

I had hoped today would be the day.  Alas, this cold will not budge.  The gunk is still coming from my nose and my lungs and I pray that, maybe, tomorrow will be the day.  However, I know that it's not the end of the world if it's not.  The run will be there, waiting for my return.  The fresh air beckons.  My Heavenly Papa knows exactly when our next running date will be.  Thankfully, He doesn't need the run to spend time with me.  And thankfully, I realize I don't need that run to spend time with him.  He's always here :)  For that, I am oh so thankful!