I’m not sure what the Weather Heads were talking about today, but man did they get it wrong in Connecticut. Allegedly “mild” and in the 50s, it was cold, raw, super foggy and did I say bone chilling cold? I would have preferred it to be 20 degrees colder than the Freezing Raw Fog Fest it turned out to be. I woke up, peeked outside and immediately dreaded running. As I embarked on my 15 mile run this morning , I imagined one of two things happening: Dian Fossey and a silverback were going to lumber across my path or Scooby Doo and the Mystery Machine were going to emerge from the foggy depths, Harlem Globetrotters in tow, trailing a ghost. I am sad to report that neither occurred.
I’ve slowly begun to fall in love with my new Garmin Forerunner 410. No more “Mapping My Run”. Today I just ran. And it was liberating. It was quietly peaceful. Even more so in the thick fog. I didn’t get caught up in the numbers. I just ran. And it felt really good. I was initially concerned about running with a Garmin. I thought I would obsess about my pace, my average speed my heart rate and whatever other metrics it measures. What I love about running is that all you really need are sneakers and you’re out the door. Have kicks will run. Anywhere. Now I have gear. And I like my gear. The miles flew by today probably because I wasn’t running and rerunning the 15 mile loop in my head. I just ran. On and on. Hill after hill. Down new streets I had never run down. I loved it. I was lost in thought. The dread melted away. My mind cleared. The fog remained.
I thought a lot during those 15 miles. I felt alive even with the damp cold. Maybe even more so because of it. And because of that, I also felt a pang of guilt. Before I headed out on the run I was dreading, my Sister told me she had lost a friend whom she had met during an Indoor Triathlon Training program to cancer. Such an incredibly nice, brave man. She was so upset. I just felt awful. Over the course of the Group’s training, they became Genuine Friends- encouraging one another, struggling together and ultimately accomplishing what they thought was impossible. All together. From Couch to Indoor Triathlon. The process was transformative for the Group. In fact, surgery to remove the brain tumor prevented him from competing in the Triathlon. The Group was devastated. In honor of Him, 3 of the Group’s coaches completed the Triathlon wearing his number. He was there, days post surgery, sitting at the finish line cheering. So brave. I’ll never forget it.
I thought about him while I was running the run I had been dreading. My hope is that he is in a better place, swimming, running, riding the race he never got to complete. I was lucky enough to complete my run, appreciating every mile my body carried me. I honored his memory. I ran his leg. And the fog slowly began to clear.