This morning I stalled in a way that would make my four year old at bedtime proud. There was the snooze button about three times. There was the Olympic marathon. The Kardashians needed to be kept up with (don't judge me). Eventually enough was enough and I had to get out the door and lay down some miles.
I was barely into my first mile when my motivation came to me in a couple of different ways. At first it was Meb. What US runner is not so proud of his 4th place finish this morning?
As I set out for my super slow long run this morning, I was keenly aware that Meb and the rest of the guys were running nearly three times faster than me and not making it look very hard. It was a good mental image to hold on to.
Not much later into my run today's date popped into my head. August 12. And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. Today marks 11 years since my grandfather passed away. Unless you knew him, I imagine it is difficult for me to accurately describe this man and what he meant to me and my family.
|My favorite photo of Pop. My wedding day|
and the last day I ever knew him as a healthy man.
He was diagnosed with cancer a few weeks before my wedding in the Summer of 2000. He swore my family to secrecy so that my wedding day would not be tainted by the sadness of his illness. I was told when I came home from my honeymoon. The fact that he loved me so much to do that still brings tears to my eyes. For the next year he fought bravely. The night that he passed, he called us all into his room one by one and said his goodbyes. It is a conversation I will never forget. After saying a final goodnight to my grandmother, he was gone.
My biggest sadness is that he never got to meet my children or know that my son bears his name. But perhaps he is looking down on us. If he is, I hope he is proud.
I thought about Pop during my run today. Not sad thoughts, just happy memories - because there are so many.