My plan called for an easy run on Monday. My head, however, was filled with a mind-maddening mix of thoughts that needed to be purged. Only a hard run would do. I pulled on my running clothes, ponied up the little hair I have left, and was out the door. I hit the ground running, and took no time to stretch.
I ran for YaYa’s nightly murmurings of how he misses his Dad.
I ran for BoBo’s unhappiness in school and with friends that have alienated them selves from him.
I ran hard and didn’t let myself give up.
I ran as if I was able to generate the will for my boys to never quit either.
It hurts, but I will not give up.
I will keep on pushing no matter how hard it gets.