From
now until the end of my life, when someone asks me my favorite number I’m going
to say. . . 17209. My bib number
for the 2013 Boston Marathon. I
just received my race packet in the mail today. Last year I cried tears of sadness when I opened my mailbox
and found this inside. Today I cry
tears of joy! When I opened the
brochure this is what it said:
“This
is personal. The Boston
Marathon. It’s more than a race to
you. It’s the culmination of a
longer journey—a personal one.
It’s your chance to make a statement to the world about who you are and
what’s important to you. This is
about your goals, convictions and hopes.
This is your day. This is
your marathon.”
I
am so blessed and thankful. It is
completely incredible that I would get to experience this after what has taken
place in my life. I’m scared and
nervous about running but I smile every time I think of experiencing this
incredible weekend!
My
last herceptin treatment will be April 3 . . . 12 days before the
marathon. I will celebrate the end
of my treatments by running a marathon.
Is that great or what? I
have climbed the hills, kept running through the wind, and pounded out mile
after mile as my body was flooded with healing chemo poison. I have faced the words I never wanted
to hear, lost my hair, and become a cancer statistic. But kept running.
I have stumbled, tripped, walked and felt at times I could not go on. But kept running. My friends have encouraged, motivated
and inspired me. I have found
myself trudging up Moyer Hill all too many times and sprinting round and round
the Indian Crest track—running, breathing so hard I couldn’t even talk, with my
friends on either side of me.
Together. Facing the
hill. Facing the challenge—one
step at a time. Up and over. Slowly moving forward. It is a miracle in itself that I have
made it to the finish line and on April 15 I will literally cross the finish
line in Boston as a reminder to myself that I have completed one of the hardest
races in my life and have run well!
Last
year I told Darla that I would not run Boston but that she should run with me
“tucked inside her heart”. This
year all of you who have surrounded me with your love and prayers will be
tucked inside my heart as I run.
And as I run I will celebrate life and joy and happiness. And I will cherish each moment that I
have been given and pray that somehow I can be an inspiration to others that I
meet. And I pray that I get to continue
to run this race called life for many years to come . . . .
