I ran my first 5K last Saturday. I ran my second 5K today.
A lot happened between them. A lot I’d rather have not happened. But I don’t get to decide these things.
The first was on Tuesday. Our pastor, his wife, and their teenage son lost their 20-year-old son/brother to suicide. From my very limited knowledge of the situation, they knew he was having a hard time this year, but this was still completely unexpected and none of his family or friends saw it coming. Our church is grieving hard for this sweet family.
And then our own tragedy hit Thursday—one that was much smaller in the grand scheme of things, but one that has consumed my focus because it affected me personally. Our sweet Sasha died around 7:00 Thursday morning. We were expecting her death at some point because of her cancer, but we were not expecting it that day. In fact, she had been doing great the few days preceding her death and seemed so healthy and full of life, just like our old Sasha. I didn’t know until afterwards about the “final rally” before death that happens in many cancer patients. I’m glad I didn’t know. If you want to read more about what happened, you can read David’s post here.
It’s day 3, and it’s not getting any easier yet. I wonder how long it takes? A week? Two weeks? A month?
I had already registered for the Paws on the Pavement 5K, which benefits CARE (Central Arkansas Rescue Effort) for Animals. Had this been any other 5K, I probably would have ditched it. But it seemed like an appropriate thing to do to go ahead and run it, given the cause. I could run this one for Sasha. And I did.
I don’t know why I did this to myself, but I just kept imagining she was there at the finish line waiting for me, the way she did when she was separated from one of us and would watch anxiously until we returned, wagging her whole body at the long-awaited (even if it had only been 2 minutes) reunion. Ok, maybe that was the wrong thing to do, because it was all I could do to keep from bawling after it was over and she wasn’t really there, and wouldn’t ever be there, except in my head. (Don’t worry—I let myself cry on the car ride home.)
But I finished in 29 minutes 2 seconds. That’s the best time I’ve ever done. Last week, I was running for me. This week, I was running for her. I guess it made a difference.
May 16th 2009 Posted to
Dogs