What have I signed up for?

It was a year ago today that I got the call.  I was at the John Stewart / Stephen Colbert Rally in Washington, D.C. with a couple hundred thousand of my closest politically like-minded friends.  (O.K., I was with two good friends but there were allot of other people there, too.)  A message from my sister indicated that my dad had taken my mom to the hospital after a day or two of unrelenting abdominal pain. 

Me with Sarah Palin and Christine O'Donnell (who is not a witch)

I knew Mom had been having "bladder problems" and while she wasn't very forthcoming with what that meant, I knew a specialist had been involved for what was being described as chronic bladder infections.  Because I am a physical therapist with a specialty in women's health, I encouraged her to let me set up an appointment for her with one of "my guys" who I knew well and who refer to me on a regular basis.  Mom declined because she liked her urologist and must have felt like she was in good hands.  

Given that information and the fact that my 79 year old mother was a life-long smoker, I would be lying if I said that the call came as a huge surprise.  None-the-less, hearing my sister (Peggy) say that my mom had Stage 4 bladder cancer and a very poor prognosis was a game-changer.  The surgeon identified cancer lesions extensively throughout her entire abdominal cavity and gave her two weeks to a year to live.  Mom never left the hospital and died 12 days later.  

Papa Bill and Grandma Elaine with my kiddos just a month before her death

The next couple weeks were a blur.  Holiday preparations were a welcome distraction and certainly my three young kids kept me moving forward.  Santa still had to make an appearance, dead Grandma or not. 

The holidays turned into February and March which were absolutely brutal as far as weather goes on the east coast.  It was during those months that I learned that the grief process is not linear.  I was up, I was down.  I could focus at work for an hour at a time but I was distracted and disorganized at home.  I wanted to find a warm, cozy spot to lay down and rest, but my mind wouldn't slow down so I threw myself into my workout routine.  Forgive me for ripping off Bono of U2, but I was "running to stand still".  

Because a picture of Bono and his gang is always appropriate

It was around that time I received an e-mail update from a Philly organization - Back on My Feet - that I had become familiar with a few years prior during a CNN Hero Awards presentation.  Back on My Feet is a nonprofit organization that promotes the self-sufficiency of those experiencing homelessness by engaging them in running as a means to build confidence, strength and self-esteem. The e-mail update indicated that they were looking for fundraising commitments in exchange for entry in the New York City Marathon.  I had done lots of fundraising for health-related organizations in the past - Livestrong, American Heart Association, the MS Society - but this group spoke to me in a different way.  

All the fundraising I had ever done was done to help organizations that help people I could relate to in some way.  We all know friends and family who have been affected by cancer, heart disease, and MS.  That made the fundraising all the more important to me.  Still, all the fundraising in the world for the Livestrong foundation didn't prevent cancer from killing my mom or her best friend just a month before Mom's death.  Did I feel subconsciously betrayed in some way?  Silly sounding, I know.  


Maybe fundraising for an organization that helps people that I can in no way relate to was my way of throwing myself into doing something for the common good that would not burn me in the end.  I'm sure my friends in the mental health profession could analyze that one for me. 


Back to that e-mail . . . It reminded me of a comment I made 14 years ago upon completing the only other marathon I had run.  (I like to spread out my big athletic endeavors every 14 years or so.)  I said, "That was incredible but I don't need to do that again until I turn 40!"  As luck would have it, I was set to turn 40 in a few months.  I think that flashback in combination with raising money for a cause I believed in compelled me to throw my hat in the ring.  


I should mention that my very tolerant husband also didn't bat an eye when I told him what I was cooking up.  As with so many things I randomly throw at him, he was supportive from the get go and has been a driving force during my training and fundraising ever since.   


With 4 months of training under my belt, I will be joining 45,000 others this Sunday for a little foot tour through New York City.  I am sure there will be plenty of time for me to reflect upon why I signed up for this.   I'll have plenty of time to think about my very supportive friends and family who have sustained me over the past year, since my mom's death.  And certainly I'll have plenty of time to think about her life.  Undoubtedly, I'll hear her voice asking me why anyone would want to run 26 miles, said in such a way to denote how ridiculous it seemed to her.  My response to her . . . "I'm here for the endorphins, Ma. They are like my nicotine."  That, I believe, she would understand.  

What have I signed up for?  One of the greatest athletic events in the world.  And. I. can't. wait.

The Verrazano Bridge start...I'll be the one wearing green!