my western nest.

final thoughts from a first timer

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We are on our way up to Maine as we speak, and I can’t believe the race is tomorrow.


Like, one day from today.

We signed up for this race on New Years Day, and I remember feeling like May would never get here. In January, the days passed so slowly. We lost our newborn daughter on December 1st; at that time, making it through a month felt like a huge accomplishment. I couldn’t even imagine being almost 6 months down the road.

I used training for this marathon as a means of healing, both body and mind. I started training barely able to run 3 miles. It was frustrating, but I had to be patient with my body. It was difficult because there were days I was so angry with my body for delivering early, even though I knew it wasn’t my fault. I had to forgive my body, and I had to take care of it if I wanted to train. I had to eat well, I had to sleep. Sometimes I cried while on the treadmill, thinking of her. I didn’t care if anyone saw.

She was a fighter, and I had to fight too.

I have heard that if you dedicate each mile in your marathon to someone or something, it helps you get through; suddenly, you are running with purpose. That purpose is bigger than yourself, in honor of someone else. Amongst other things, I am running for her. I am running because I am blessed to be able to run. She will be on my mind all day.



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