Keeping Pace

Keeping Pace

Archives for April 17, 2009

When did running get hard?

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I run very little in the past few week.  A week ago, I started back up with a treadmill run.   It was difficult but I wasn’t all that surprised.  Unfortunately, things haven’t gotten a whole lot easier.  My last few runs have been quite the struggle for me, and today was no different. 
 
I made a concerted effort to get away for a run during today’s lunch hour.  I decided to take on the a popular running path near my work which referred to as “the dish.”  From my office door, around the loop, and back is 5.7 miles.  The loop segment is hilly, paved, and always busy.  
 
I shouldn’t have been surprised to find this run a challenge.  Actually, I expected that I would be out of breath for the hilly loop segment.  But being out of breath right from the start was a bit disconcerting, but that didn’t stop me from giving it a good fight.  I plan to keep doing just that until it find my happy pace once again.
 
I am looking forward to the return of runs that should be easy being, just that: easy. Perhaps it will be tomorrow.  Perhaps not until next week.  It needn’t matter.  Until then, I’ll just put one foot in front of the other and trudge on. 

Analyze this

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Following a deep discussion on lingering fears about loss of loved ones, I hung up the phone and fell off to sleep.

I am in the ICU, sitting on the toilet of all places, when a code begins.  Suddenly, I am in the midst of chaos — needles flying, and glass falling .  I try to leave, when a needle stick occurs to my right ankle.  I begin feeling woozy and the scene changes…

In the next scene, I am at the beach with YaYa enjoying the calm effect the ocean has on me. YaYa asks to go swimming and I agree, reminding him to not go out too far.  On this day, he walks out very far — farther than he ever would — as if drawn by a greater force.  From the shore, I call to him asking him to come back in towards shore.  I hear a woman gasp behind me, calling out  “Oh NO! Watch out!”  A sheet of blackness falls like a curtain, leaving me in total blackness.

I can hear YaYa screaming for me.  His voice comes from far out in the water and off to my right.  He’s beginning to panic.  “Mom!  MOM!  Where ARE you?”  I call back, “YaYa!” and move toward his voice.  I AM panicking too.

As YaYa’s voice falls silent, I am overwhelmed with fear.  I hear a man’s voice assuring me, “I’ve got him.”  Thank God, I think.  Then, the curtain of blackness rises. I watch a man carries my son in his arms, completely UNDERWATER, and walking effortlessly toward the shore.  The distance is endless — impossible for any human to survive.  Yet, moments later, they emerge from the depths of the ocean, and YaYa is delivered to my arms.  He opens his eyes immediately and gives me a big hug.  He is completely fine.  I cannot thank the man enough but his manner is one of no-big-deal, like it’s something he does everyday.

I woke from my dream to find YaYa sleeping peacefully beside me.  The clock displayed the time; it was 1:08 am, only 20 minutes after I had hung up the phone with W.

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