It means taking one step at a time, putting one foot in front of the other. It means trusting that there is still solid ground under my feet, that the next step will not lead into total darkness or off a cliff.
It means I have to take each step all by myself, but that friends are there to cheer me along the way.
It means learning to enjoy the journey for itself, because on some days there is no one but myself to cheer me along the way.
It means learning to be in the moment, every moment, even the ones when it really hurts to be here now.
It means that there is no such thing as mediocre, because every step is an affirmation that I can and will do great things… one small step at a time.
It means finding the courage to start, the strength to endure, and the resolve to finish.
It means that every day can be a “personal best,” simply in the fact of getting to the finish line. It also means that on some days, just getting out of bed is “getting to the finish line,” while on other days… anything is possible… and both of those extremes are fine.
I’v borrowed liberally from some of my favorite running quotes here, because one of the things I’m learning is that running is a metaphor for life… so even when I’m writing about running, it’s not always only about that.
I’m slow and happy, and so glad that you are here with me.
That’s how I’m trying to live my life, and that’s how I’m going to do things with this blog. I have been blogging semi-publicly for over a year now, but that blog was focused on keeping friends and family informed of my late husband’s fight against stage 4 lung cancer. It’s now been two and a half months since I lost him… and I have discovered that besides (obviously) missing Kurt, I also miss blogging.
I am going to try something new with this blog, make it a bit more visible to the world, and see what may develop.
I’m a learning and development professional, an amateur philosopher, a mid-life PhD, who took up running in 2009 when somebody advised me to find a short-term goal to avoid the post-dissertation blues. I’m never going to be competitive (unless maybe I’m still running at the age of 100, which I sort of doubt), but I have indeed found happiness through running… so I’ve now proudly taken to calling myself the “slow happy runner.” I’ve completed three half marathons since February 2010, and I’m currently registered for three more within the next six months.
When I needed to give myself some respite from caregiving, I ran. When nothing else would stop the anguish of pre-grief screaming in my head, running stopped those thoughts. When I needed to cry, I welcomed opportunities to run in the rain. As I try to recreate my life as a “young widow,” I’m thinking about taking running vacations… going to places I’ve never been and running while I’m there.
I expect to write a lot about running in this blog, but that is only a part of multi-faceted me. So you might get a little grieving, a little philosophy, a little environmentalism, and who knows what else may capture my interest.
I hope you find things that are interesting to you here as well. Your comments will always be welcome… I only ask that you play nicely.