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a



Saturday, March 17, 2012

{when dreams die}

Today will go down in history as one of the hardest days of my life. Race day. Or not race day as I should say. I know it may be hard for most people to understand the loss I feel by not being able to run this race....all I can compare it to is a job promotion that you've been working your butt of to get but don't; a college that you've always dreamed of attending but you're denied acceptance; a proposal that you've been anxiously anticipating but he dumps you instead; anything that you've longed for and almost achieved only to have it slip through your fingers at the last minute.... a dream that is dead.

I was proud of Liz and Toni (and Brittney!) and was so glad to see them off today. I was like a proud mama....following them all the way to the start line....jogging alongside the corral with the camera trying to keep up with them so I wouldn't lose sight. The moment we had been dreaming about, stressing about, talking about and anticipating for months was finally here and I wasn't going to miss seeing them pick up their feet and start that journey. I just never ever dreamed that I'd be standing alone on the other side of the fence wearing my flip flops and blowing them kisses as I did it. Thank goodness for big huge all concealing sunglasses because I'm sure I looked like a fool. But I had worked too hard for too long to just stand and wave them off: the tears were inevitable. And let me tell you....they flowed. All the way back to the hotel they flowed. And as I sit and type this rather than sleep soundly in my bed it is because they are still. flowing.

For months and months I have sacrificed hugely to prepare for this day. My husband has sacrificed his wife. My kids have sacrificed their mom. Friendships have sacrificed because of the all consuming training. Every area of my life has sacrificed in some way because there just aren't enough hours in the day. That is one of the hardest parts of this. Knowing what goes into training and knowing that it will take a lot for me to ever attempt it again. A lot more missed weekends with my family, a lot more of those days of not being able to walk up and down the stairs after a long run, a lot of precious time with my metabolism being screwed up while it tries to figure out what in the world my body is doing, a lot of money spent to make race day happen...this list goes on. And finding a new running partner willing to run a marathon that I can train with? That could be a long time coming.

This I know for sure: I have almost tasted the victory of this. And it was sweet. Sweet enough to get under my skin and assure me that there is no question about it....I will run one. When that perfect timing comes together and I find the race, the partner and the time to train...I will run. And when it finally does happen, the bitterness of today will make the sweetness of victory that much more sweet. There's gotta be a silver lining somewhere.

xoxo,
ali

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