All this goodness

Cheers!

What a wonderful weekend. We flew out to Minneapolis, got to stay in a suite (thank you, Susan!), had a great time with Eliza, and saw a fantastic concert down in Northfield. It was raining Friday morning, so Carol, swearing to me that she had read about this in Runner's World (so that must mean that other people do it, right?), ran up and down the hall of the hotel for half an hour to get a workout.  She did admit that she had to switch floors to keep people from looking at her strangely.

For those of you who know her running ways, you will have noticed that she only ran for half an hour. That wasn't just because she ran out of hallway. She was feeling pretty poorly when we were out there, and also upon our return. A visit to the doctor on Tuesday led to a short (45 minutes) procedure on Wednesday to drain fluid that had built up in her abdomen. That gave her some relief, but she will have to go in again if fluid returns and it becomes uncomfortable.

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Always goodness. Be brave. Be happy, okay? Courage, chook, ja?" 

-- Katherine Rundell, Cartwheeling in Thunderstorms

There is an art to rising

There is an art to rising. For most, it is lost to us, as birth. There are so many other moments in our day/life; why should this one be memorable? And yet every day, we are born anew, to look at our rooms, our selves, our loves, our lives through a new glass, each day with one more chance to know fully and to be fully known.

I have seen Carol rise from places where it seems there is no sun, where darkness threatens to overwhelm. And still, she rises.

This round of treatment has not been the easiest physically for her, but we're headed out to Minnesota tomorrow. There we will find sunshine, and warmth. She won't like getting up early for the flight, but she will rise to the occasion.

Questions...

I'm never going to make it up those steps

How is she still running after thirteen miles, and why can't I seem to keep up with her?
If the second half really is all downhill, why do I feel like I'm slogging up Camel's Hump?
Why isn't everyone at the finish just taking a nap?
Can't the mac and cheese come in a bigger bowl?
Who does this stuff?

In this third week, we ventured down to Bellows Falls for the Front Porches half marathon. No expectations. If we ran two miles, we'd run two miles. If we were dead last, that would be okay. If I needed to go back and get the car, that would be fine. But none of that happened. As usual, Scout set the pace and pulled me along. Volunteers and other runners were great. By mile ten, the only thing leading me along was the sight of Carol in front of me. If she was going to finish, I could go with her, pretend that I was supporting her when all the while I knew that it was really the other way around. Or that at that moment, I was the one who needed the support that her presence gave. At another moment, in another run, I might be able to be that presence up ahead, with an encouraging word, letting her know that she's come so far, and that I am so very honored to be there with her.

When she resumes treatment on Tuesday, I hope the memory of this run will remain, to help, in some small way, to get through to the next third week.