I haven't posted anything to my running blog for years. What's happened to me?
I lost my beloved husband, poet and editor Jon Tribble, in October 2019. He put up with my becoming a runner, took me to my races (I don't drive), and even took my finish line photos (though he wasn't a fan of runners spitting at the finish line!). He was sick in 2018 and 2019, so my energy went toward making him feel better.
I have been in a state of mourning for the past two years. Grief brain, the pandemic, teaching my classes over Zoom, missing him so fiercely I felt like I couldn't move.
But I did move. When the world went into lockdown and going to the gym was risking God knows what, I ran. I am so much slower these days that when I could do a half-marathon in 2 hours and change, but that doesn't matter. I ran through sorrow; I walked through grief.
Today is the 2 year anniversary of his memorial service. I thought I would be in a lot of pain, but I went for a run/walk for a hour and a half. 7 miles. The longest run in many years. I thought of him, and knew that I wanted to do races again, now that the world is re-opening.
It may take me much longer to get my miles done, but in his name and in his memory, I will keep moving. It was a blessing to be his wife. It was (and is) hard to be his widow. It is a wonder to be alive in a time in human history when there's been so much loss.
Next stop, ten miles. It may take me two hours, but those will be hours well-spent.