Sick with worry

I am not sorry that I did not BQ. I am happy that I got a taste of what it could be like to finally accomplish that goal. I know that in time, I’ll get it.

It was clear to me, in the time between Chicago and CIM, that my marathon goals are not currently driving me. Jeff and I worked toward me running the best marathon that I could. We both knew full well that my heart was not in the latter part of my training efforts. Because of this, I purposely did not blog about the marathon in the months leading up to race day. I *wanted* you to forget about it.

The best part about CIM weekend was being able to take a mental break from the worry that I am always in. It seems so hypocritical and selfish at this point, but I was at a point were I truly felt beyond help. YaYa’s football season ending on marathon day was the result of my prayers for help.

The moment that I stepped foot in the door, post marathon, the responsibility and worry all came flooding right back. “Wait”, I screamed, “don’t I get a few hours to ease back into this?” The answer was clearly a “No”.

The suitcases said it all; my boys were home, or more accurately, they weren’t. I called BoBo’s cell, but there was no answer. I was just too tired to be dealing with missing children. I hoped that they were at the neighbors, but they weren’t. As it turned out, they were chillin’ behind the local drug store. They were fine (relative term), so I picked them up and brought them home.

Now, I have been accused of being over protective on numerous occasions. I won’t deny it. It’s a common reaction to working in the Intensive Care Unit. An ICU nurse sees the results of many accidents, and other horrific events.

I have always held my breath whenever I hear a siren, and fret whenever my phone calls go unanswered. These days, however, the feelings are all the more intense. The constant worry eats away at my insides and, I am certain, I will soon be melting away in a puddle of tears.

I do have reason to worry for my boys. I am not over reacting. They proof trudges into my house each day full of anger, pain, and sadness that I have failed to shield. And I feel like such a failure when ever my eyes meet this unhappiness in either of my boys. Didn’t I bring them into this world to protect them from this? How could things have gone so wrong?

I feel that I have to step it up a notch were the boys are concerned or, I fear, something very bad may happen. I wish it were as easy as my taking on the pain and suffering so that these young lads can smile again and find joy. But it’s never that easy, and that won’t help any of us, will it? I can only help my children by helping myself too. So, our counseling routine will be modified again to work towards something better. That will have to be my Christmas-Birthday gift to myself this year. Hopefully, 2008 will bring a few smiles and some joy to our world.

Will I do another marathon? Yes, I will. But I can’t begin to guess how long it will be before I can begin training again. It’s been months since I have actually felt like I was truly training anyhow. I’ve really just been running to work through my own struggles.

You see, it could be worse, but I am not going to let that happen (if I can help it).