Well, it's been a long time - too long. It seems I keep letting life get in the way of my writing. You'd think I'd learn my lesson by now, but it seems I'm destined to learn things the hard way. I am learning though...
This last weekend I went to Washington, D.C. with my husband, daughter, and son-in-law. This wasn't a sightseeing trip, we were there for something more momentous. My husband was there to run in the Marine Corps Marathon. Yes, at age 50, he was going to run 26.2 miles without stopping. When he first told me he was going to train for this marathon I thought he was crazy. After all, he's not 20 anymore. But he was determined and so began a journey neither of us will ever forget.
He began running each week, slowly building up his mileage and though I worried about him, I encouraged him. There were times I resented the running; it seemed to interfere with us spending time with each other and getting things done at home that I thought needed doing. Still, I continued to encourage him. He had tried this once before and had to stop because his knee began to hurt too much and I worried it might happen this time as well. Thankfully, his knee did alright. It hurt a bit at times, but he pushed through it and studied how to strengthen his knee and prevent injury. And the mileage continued to increase.
Each Saturday or Sunday was a long run and before long he had reached 12 miles, then 14, then 16 - a few weeks before the race, 18 miles. Then it happened - he injured the tendon in his ankle. At first we thought it was his achilles tendon and he was so upset and discouraged. But he researched and finally went to a physical therapist who told him his achilles was fine. The injured tendon was one that came off the achilles and he began exercises for it. When the exercises weren't working he again began researching and learned about a special way to tape the ankle along with stretches to do. He was determined to run.
Somewhere along the way, I stopped worrying and instead was in awe of the determination and self-discipline my husband had. Throughout it all, I was praying for him but now I had a new determination of my own and my prayers became more fervent. I wanted this for him - I wanted him to run! For the last 2 weeks before the race he didn't run at all; probably the worst thing a runner can do before a marathon. I prayed.
This past weekend was make it or break it time. We went to D.C. accompanied by the prayers of a lot people. He was nervous - afraid he wouldn't be able to finish. Somehow, I knew he would. We bought him a Marine Corps Marathon jacket - he didn't want it, afraid if he didn't finish it would only bring back bad memories, but now I was determined. I insisted we get it, and we did.
The night before the marathon we talked about his nervousness and I tried to encourage him. I confess, I was a little nervous as well, so I stayed up late praying for him and for his safety. Neither of us got much sleep that night and he was still very nervous in the morning. He left for the race and I prayed. My daughter and son-in-law came to get me and we took the subway to the first spot we could see him and waited. It was only the one mile mark, but when he came into view I could see the joy and excitement on his face as he ran by with his arms up in the air and tossed me his jacket. He was living a dream...
With each time we saw him, the joy and happiness was evident. I looked at the people running around him - some with such pained expressions, struggling to breathe - and marveled at my husband and the answered prayers. He was smiling, laughing, rushing over for a kiss, and breathing like this was just an easy jog in the park.
I was amazed and so proud of him. He was doing it - and best of all, he was having fun! He finished the race and beat his own goal of 4 hours. He came across that finish line and looked great doing it. All the training had paid off. All the prayers had been answered. His self-discipline and determination got him across the finish line in record time and I couldn't be more proud of him.
My husband is a very special man and I have learned a lot from him over the years. But watching him as he trained the last 6 months - overcoming every obstacle in his path, not allowing himself to give up - I have learned a lesson I have needed to learn for a long time.
I say I want to be a writer, but I have allowed every little obstacle life puts in my path to slow me down and even stop me. Writing is like running a race. When my husband didn't feel like running, he made himself do it anyway. When I don't feel like writing, I need to do it anyway. I will never finish the race by giving up and getting discouraged. I need to push forward even if what I write misses the mark. I'll never get good at it if I don't train - and my training is writing and more writing. My plan is to attack my writing like I'm training for a marathon, with self-discipline and determination.
I feel so blessed to have been able to accompany my husband on his journey toward living his dream and to witness the strength, self-discipline, and determination he possesses. He's my hero, my example, my best friend, and one of the greatest joys in my life is to be his wife.