I Left My Heart In San Francisco

If things had gone as planned, I would be packing up my gear tonight and hitting the road north to compete in my first marathon in San Francisco.

I guess you could say that for 15+ years, though I've certainly called myself a runner, I've suffered from a sense of inadequacy; living in fear of the question..."So how many marathons have you done?"  It has somehow made me feel less than a "real runner" - a dark, hidden-in-the-closet secret...the answer is "NONE."

This was to be the year.  Having braved the dark and the cold throughout the  winter, I had gotten down to my perfect running weight - about 105 - and I was fast.  Psychologically, I had learned to pace myself and could run distance; 10, 12 miles without fatigue.  And as winter gave way to spring, I was so ready to start training for the grand-mommy of them all.  I joined a training group and ran with them on Saturdays.  I found out that I was pretty fast. That I had the endurance.  That yes, I could do it. I made my hotel reservations.  But around 16 miles, everything changed.

As Traxee neared launch date, a career change I couldn't resist came my way and suddenly, I found myself working 70 hours a week.  Each night I crawled into bed past midnight and when the alarm went off at 5:30 and it was time to run, I flipped it off and kept on sleeping.  Fatigue beyond imagining overcame me.  But still, I ran when I could.  I was no longer able to meet my training group on Saturdays and so I attempted my long runs alone.  Then my husband had a heart attack.  I had to be at the hospital. He had heart surgery.  He was diagnosed with diabetes.   And when he got out of the hospital he had to rest - and so I was left to handle all the household responsibilities on my own.  At one point I found myself on the kitchen floor sobbing uncontrollably; "I can't do this, I can't do this...I can't...."

I look at my little red datebook where 5 months ago I excitedly scribbled "Leave for San Francisco."  This was going to be my year.  But you know, looking back on it, I've learned an incredible lesson in endurance nonetheless.  Running the marathon is in many ways a leap of faith and requires an unwavering sense of self confidence.  It seems that this year, those attributes were required elsewhere in my life, for what reason, I'll never know. But my life is inexorably changed.

To all of you who may be going to San Francisco this weekend, I wish you the best of luck.  As you cross that beautiful bridge, my heart goes with you. It's just one foot in front of the other...yes, you can.

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