We’re still in Pennsylvania for another day or two, and enjoying the time with family. I’m heading out this morning for my first 20 miler of this cycle. After a week in the 80’s, my body is a little shocked by the 30 degree runs here. Brrr!
Just like the 10 mile race, I woke up the day before with a sore throat and congested head. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to affect my ability to run.
Holly, Corey, Holly’s husband Batch, and I warmed up for a mile and a half. They were doing the 10k, and I jogged down with them to the start, and then added another half mile on before the 5k race 30 minutes later.
Before falling asleep Wednesday night, I was reflecting on the reasons running is so powerful for me, and how often it has carried me through tough phases of life. The last year has been a difficult journey or wanting to get pregnant with no success.
In the last few months, we agreed to take a break from trying, as it was emotionally exhausting. Since then, I decided I would go for the marathon in January, and I am thankful that running can help me process the grief that comes with infertility.
It sounds odd to use the word “grief” and to experience it as a “loss” when there has been no life that was lost… but the loss of control and the hope of new life that doesn’t come about is so difficult.
As many of my dear friends have gotten pregnant the last few months, I’ve been wrestling with this again and finding the ability to hit the pavement and pray one of the most healing avenues I have!
Back to the 5k… I was determined to be thankful that I can run, and to pound out my grief, confusion, frustration, disappointment, and whatever else needed to be released. So that is what I did.
A new pr! 20:22, or about 6:33 pace (6:35, 6:25, 6:38 respectively.)
I’m thankful that I can run. I’m thankful that running gives me so much back in return. And I’m thankful for the sweet daughter that God has given us, and trust that our family may grow in time. In the meantime, I’m thankful for my supportive husband who encourages my crazy running love and cheers me on.
And I’m thankful for the sweet things my daughter says, such as when she tells us that a rough day was a “little bit sad and a little bit happy.” We can’t avoid the brokenness in ourselves and in the world, but we can find the things that bring us joy.