Six Months to Boston

runningIt has been a dry two years for writing. Why?

I suppose I am guilty of only writing about certainty, of what I know, instead of what I don’t know, or dream of. Fear of failure perhaps. Fear of throwing personal questions out to the universe. Well. That was stupid.

Life is about living the questions. For 2 years I was without gainful employment, and was even gracefully asked to, well, leave a job at a prestigious university. It was not a good fit, but I wanted to be the one to call that. Not them. That hurt.

Hurt gave way to wonder, and then to peace. Then, in an all out effort to find the right thing, just when I was not looking, a dear friend threw a job possibility my way. It came out of thin air. It is exactly where I am supposed to be. I am connected back to my core.

Knowing my core has taken time. It took failure, and illness and betrayal on many fronts to find it. Deep inside I am learning to listen. It is there.

Today I ran without headphones for 10 miles. Talk about finding your core. I signed up to run the Philadelphia Half-Marathon; mostly because I needed a goal, but also because that is where I am from, where my family lives, where my core started. It is the city of brotherly love. I get to see my amazing Italian family, and run through the streets of my childhood.

And, today, as I went on my training run, I realized that the Boston Marathon is 6 months from today. That too is my core. My mother once said that the Boston Marathon made me “whole”. I thought I was finished with running at that distance. Certainly, 10 Boston’s counts for something. But I have not been able to get the bombings out of my mind, nor my husband’s recent illness, nor the fact that we are not going to live forever, and each day is precious.

I am also  not going to only announce my successes. I want to announce my questions. Can I actually run 26.2 miles again? Good question. I sure hope so. But I am not afraid to “put it out there”. If my body will take me, I will go. I have some unfinished business, and it remains somewhere between Hopkinton and Boston. My heart swims here; it grieves here; it soars here.

If I wait until I know I can do it, that is my ego. If I share my burning desire to put one more Boston under my Asics, even when I am 55-years-old and not sure if I can pull it off….that is my heart. It is the 120th running of the Boston Marathon. It is 22 years since my first Boston. It is the race that brought me dearest friends and fondest memories and I am ready to give it my last best shot!

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One Response to Six Months to Boston

  1. Pingback: Six Months to Boston | maidablog

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