Reflections on an exhausting week (A.K.A. WAY too long to actually read)

I wanted to run today.

Early home movies of my chubby 3 or 4 year old self attempting to race across the backyard (without really getting anywhere) provide ample evidence however, that I wasn’t destined to be a Paula Radcliffe or Usain Bolt. (My dad has been known to say that not only did I take the bottles from the other babies in the nursery, but I took their chins as well.)

I’ve learned to love running*. (I use the term loosely. I tell my kids I’m “going for a run” because I want to set a good example. For what it’s worth, what I do is more like a slow saunter. For simplicity in typing, however, and for the visual it creates, I’m going to use the word “run,” rather than, “Big Bird Shuffle” as might be the more accurate description of what I do.)

I’ve learned to love running because it gives me a chance to think. Some people think in the shower, but as some devoted readers might recall—my showers aren’t long enough for any major thinking.

And so it was today - -with i-pod blasting, “Life Is Beautiful,” gorgeous blue skies, bright sunshine and temps in the 50’s that I set out.
Life is beautiful
but it's complicated, we barely make it
we don't need to understand
there are miracles, miracles

yeah, life is beautiful
our hearts
they beat and break

when you run away from harm
will you run back into my arms?
like you did when you were young
will you come back to me?

i will hold you tightly
when the hurting kicks in

life is beautiful
but it's complicated, we barely make it
we don't need to understand
there are miracles, miracles

stand.. where you are
we let all these moments
pass us by

it's amazing where i'm standing
there's a lot that we can give
this is ours just for the moment
there's a lot that we can give

it's amazing where i'm standing
there's a lot that we can give
this is ours just for the moment
there's a lot that we can give

I needed to reflect on this most exhausting week.

A significant portion of the week is a blur – which I blame on my self-diagnosed (and then dr. diagnosed) sinus infection.

I remember dragging 6 out of 7 of us to both sessions of Stake Conference last weekend. We went to the open house. And to my presidency meeting. And I remember crawling back into bed every chance I got – armed with a cold compress, ear plugs, eye patch to block any and all light, and instructions to “only get me if the house is burning down.”

I remember – oh how I remember – the constant head-throbbing, never-ending feeling of a bat being bashed into my head and eyes. (Ok – so that hasn’t ever really happened – but I think I experienced a good simulation last week.)
If it wasn’t a bat ramming my brain, it was a sharp-point – something akin to a screwdriver or an ice-pick – poking and prodding and pulsating all day and night.

I remember Greg’s suggestion (a nice way perhaps of saying, “get out of bed and do something,”) that, “maybe you should go see someone? It’s not normal to have a headache this bad for four days straight.”

The dr. gave me an IV pumped full of pain meds with the assurance, “You should start to feel better soon—and much better within an hour.”

Such false hope. Temporary, but very short-lived relief was all that was to be mine. Within a few hours, the construction zone inside my head, complete with pounding jack-hammers, was back at it in full-force.

I think I was first in line at the pharmacy the next morning. (Those of you who are anti-medicine…no comments, please.)

In case I haven’t been descriptive enough - -suffice it to say that I had a headache from H E double toothpicks.

And that only compounded what was already scheduled to be an insane week.

As is often the case, life takes twists and turns beyond our wildest predictions. Sometimes those events are good. Often they are not.

As I stepped one foot in front of the other, I sadly thought back to how Greg’s busy week had gotten so much busier – due to the untimely death of another friend and Cleveland Heights police officer. Thirty-year-old Officer Tom Patton collapsed and died after chasing a suspect Saturday night. He left behind an infant daughter, a fiancee’ and untold numbers of grieving family members and friends.

Greg represented Shaker’s Honor Guard Tuesday and Wednesday at the viewings, before attending the funeral on Thursday.

For the second time in three years, he missed Addysen in the school talent show.

And then, Officer James Kerstetter of the Elyria Police Department was shot and killed while responding to a call. The funeral services for this husband and father of three will be held Saturday.

As I walked briskly, I thought of these events. Today was Greg’s first real day home in about two weeks and I was enjoying the fresh air and time alone – despite my somber thoughts.

Sometimes, we all just need to get away, if only for a few minutes.

My reflections brought me to Thursday – our 15th anniversary. Wow. What a ride it’s been – especially these last couple of years. I don’t remember most of our anniversaries. I guess that means that all too often, we grab frozen pizza and say, “maybe next year we’ll do something to celebrate.”

As I watched a robin digging for a worm, and marveled at the guy wearing shorts and a t-shirt pushing his toddler in a stroller, I thought about our 4th anniversary – dinner at Rusty’s up Cedar Mountain. Addysen was less than a month old. I quickly concluded that a “romantic” dinner out with a baby is not really that “romantic.”

By our 5th – we were living in OH and expecting Baby #2. Greg was in the police academy. We celebrated by grabbing nachos and virgin daquiri’s at Chi Chi’s and by opening the envelope the ultrasound tech had given me the week before. It said, “Congradulations, It’s a BOY!” (Her spelling, not mine.)

For our 6th, Greg gave me a vase that he had specially made with my favorite colors. After that, it gets a little blurry. I spent our 11th doing 7 miles on the elliptical in hopes of bringing on labor. It didn’t work and Kenzie was born two days later.

Fast-forward to #15 where Greg left at 5am, attended a friend’s funeral, in addition to work and a meeting. He got home at 11pm. I spent the evening celebrating Relief Society with the great ladies of our ward.

“It Feels Like Home,” came on my i-pod and I realized that for the first time in a week – I was completely headache free.

I really wanted to run.
But I didn’t want to do anything that might bring back that horrendous headache.

So, for the first two miles, I let my fear hold me back.

(Well, that and my extremely full bladder.)

After a quick detour home, I set out again. I’m sure I am vitamin D deficient after all these years living in Cleveland. I needed the sunshine on so many levels.

“Hey Soul Sister,” came on and I couldn’t help but pick up my pace a bit. The weather was just too perfect. I thought about everything that was still scheduled for the weekend: the pinewood derby, work, Kenzie’s birthday, our anniversary get-away– so much to do, yet I just wasn’t ready to get on with the rest of my day.

And then, “Awake and Alive,” started blasting in my ears. Our spinning instructor calls it the ‘angry’ song, but as I started paying attention to the words, I decided, “what the heck? I’m going to run.”

I’m awake I’m alive
Now I know what I believe inside
Now it’s my time
I’ll do what I want cause this is my life
Right here, right now
I’ll stand my ground and never back down
I know what I believe inside
I’m awake and I’m alive

It’s quite possibly clear only to me – but there is a definite method to my madness when it comes to the order of songs on my workout playlists.

And for a few brief moments -- in the middle of an exhausting and at times overwhelming week-- I was born to run.