The Long Run, Week 4: #MegsMiles
Most Saturdays are low-key for us, a time to relax, get in a long run, do some cleaning or just be lazy on the couch. This past weekend was quite the exception, though. Between hubby’s gigs that kept him hopping for a day and a half, tending to the herd of horses at our local therapeutic riding center, getting bills paid, meals cooked, a bit of cleaning done, and toting baby girl around like a squirming football (she’s in a stage where she refuses to be put down for longer than 5 seconds), it’s a wonder I did manage to get my long run in. I am incredibly thankful to my Sister-in-Love and Mother/Father-in-Love for all of the support they give us by babysitting. AND, I am ever so grateful for an extra day to just chill out and have some quiet family time before getting back to the rat race. (Oddly enough, it’s only when I’m back to the rat race that I even have time enough to blog.)
So, getting on to the long run. I prefer to get it done during baby girl’s first nap of the day, but since I had parental duties all alone that day, I just enjoyed snuggling as she napped. Then the “in-Love’s” took over while I handled feeding duties at the local therapeutic riding center. (As an aside… My husband’s mom started the tradition of saying “in-Love” as opposed to “in-Law” – just one of many examples of why she is so awesome and why I absolutely LOVE my husband’s family.)
After saying hello to the herd, getting some kisses,
Feeding the herd of 15,
Watering the stall-kept horses,
Mucking the barn,
And haying everybody,
I was finally able to get home, suck down some peanut butter toast and get to my run.
It was a good run, but difficult in more ways than one. Just being “that time of month” makes it difficult enough (sorry if that’s TMI, but hey, it’s hard to explain the difficulties without SOME detail), and on top of that was the brutal wind, PLUS… This run was for Meg. And every time I think about this woman whom I’ve never met, I get all torn up inside.
Meg was a wife, a mom, a runner. And now, due to a drunk driver, she is no more on this earth. As I ran, I was hyperventilating, thinking of how her children have been robbed of their mother. You see, my dad was killed in a car crash when I was an infant. I know something about senseless tragedies and growing up without a parent. It HURTS. And as I ran, I hurt for Meg’s kids, and I prayed for their healing. I prayed that, if they aren’t already, that they would become followers of Christ and that Jesus would heal their brokenness as He had healed mine.
I had planned a 12 mile run. The GPS had some issues, I’m guessing due to the vicious wind, and it clocked the run at 12.88 miles, which I think was wrong. In any case, however many miles they were, they belong to Meg and her family.
Did you run for Meg? How did it go?