Marathon

I was never a runner.  

I mean, I ran around playing tag and hide-and-seek like most any kid, but I wasn't a serious runner.  And as I got older and my metabolism/endocrine processes malfunctioned with increasing severity, I also got bigger and became even less and less of a runner.  It was frustrating, that I ate the same things and in the same quantities (or sometimes less) as my older brother, but he stayed thinner than a fence post and I got thicker and thicker.  I would get a stitch in my side when I ran, and my face would get beet red, and it was hard to breathe.  My breath actually burned in my chest like it does when you breathe very cold air in the winter.  So I never liked to run, never volunteered for any 5K's or marathons.  I did a 24-hour Relay a few times, but I mostly walked my laps.  The Walk for Diabetes that I used to do was perfect because it really was a walk; running was totally optional.

In the big picture, therefore, it was not a great loss to me that I can't run anymore.  I was pretty devastated about losing the walking, of course, but now that I can at least walk a little bit, I'm not too broken up over not being able to run.

Today I feel like I've closed out a week of incredible marathons, though, and I'm damn proud of them.  It began earlier this week when we got notifications that two different parties wanted to schedule showings of our house (which is for sale) at lunch time.  It happened to be a day when my husband was teaching all morning and all afternoon.  This meant that he could take a quick break to pick us up during his lunch, so that the house would be empty for the showings, but he wouldn't be able to leave mid-afternoon to bring us back home.  We had to spend the whole afternoon at his work, which to our great fortune is a fantastic place to get stuck:  the library.  

The library is terrific because there are books for the kids (duh) but also play areas, with shapes and trains and dinosaurs, and huge expanses of safe, low-pile carpet for me to practice walking.  So while Daddy was busy teaching, we played, and read, and my little minions dutifully walked alongside me and pushed my wheelchair while I walked around --completely without canes or walker or holding hands or any other balance aid-- and the chair was right there ready whenever I needed a sit down break.  An entire afternoon sitting up in my wheelchair is a huge strain on my back, but while I knew I would pay with suffering and pain later, I was still pretty happy that I'd managed to last the whole time without serious problems. 

I had another endurance test today: my niece's birthday party was held at a family fun center about forty minutes drive from our house.  It began at 3pm, and was going to last until as long as my niece wanted to stay or until closing, so hubby and I planned in advance that I would probably have to leave before the party was really over.  We would stay until around 6pm, we decided, and then go get dinner before taking our kids to spend the night with their birthday girl cousin and getting me back home to lay down.  I recall checking the time when it was just after 5pm, but the next time I looked it was 7:08pm.  I was shocked!

It's not that I wasn't uncomfortable, because I was definitely feeling the strain in my neck and shoulders and back (and let's be honest, some of the worst pain was in my poor tooshie, it's not as cushioned as it used to be), but there kept being things I wanted to watch the kids do, and I didn't feel bad enough to want to go home and miss out on any of it.  I was using every trick I knew to cope, too: leaning forward periodically to relieve pressure in my seat, turning my head and gently rolling my neck to try to keep it loose, keeping hydrated, etc.  We ended up staying until almost 8pm, and everyone had such a great time it was totally worth it.  

Of course today was all about the birthday girl, who I can NOT believe is 8 years old already!  But even as proud as I am of that special young lady, I had a little pride left to marvel at my body, sticking it out for another hours-long marathon in my chair, attending the sort of priceless family event that I so often missed out on the past two years.  Me and my stiff muscles and my titanium-enhanced spine and my sore butt did our equivalent of a full-on, spartan-iron man-marathon this week, and like any great athlete we finished strong, and proud, and both grateful and amazed at what the human body can do.