Time To Heal
Gloomy Start
I jumped off the bus with conflicting feelings of excitement and nervousness. This race was one for the books. While stretching, I ensured that my sister's photo was still fastened to my running vest. When I didn’t feel it, I went into full panic mode. I searched the event parking lot and frantically retraced my steps. The night before, I laminated her photo to protect it from potential rain damage (as it was in the forecast). It was so important to showcase my reason for running this half-marathon. Realizing I no longer had the photo, my excitement turned into guilt and I already felt like a loser at the start line.
The entire purpose was to run this half-marathon in honor of my sister who passed away 6 months prior. Her photo was supposed to be on this journey with me as a token of motivation. I had lost it, but my boyfriend found the picture in my car at the shuttle pickup point. I was relieved, but it was 60 seconds before start time. Inevitably, I would run without her.
It was a gloomy morning when I began the 13.1-mile loop in honor of Sara. However, I was glad the sun was hiding. I didn’t think I deserved any bit of sunshine or happiness after my sister’s death. Guilt ate me alive for a while. Imagining my sister in any kind of distress was unpleasant, and I wished to shield myself and my family from the pain it caused.
13.1 Ahead
My heart beat fast and my palms were sweaty just thinking about my first half-marathon ahead. Clearly I was anxious, but pounding the pavement was therapeutic, an activity where negative emotions flowed out and positive ones flowed in. Challenging myself physically opened the door for healing mentally.
As I began my run, the hills were not forgiving. I was overzealous at the start, which exhausted me but forced me to dig deeper. As I trekked up a never-ending hill, I had a magnificent view of the forest trees and fog that lingered between them. With every step up the relentless hill, my confidence soared higher and higher. Moving out West was the best decision I ever made, and I wished my sister was here to experience all the incredible adventures it offered.
The opening stretch was boring and unremarkable. I was keeping my expected pace and jiving to my playlist. However, when I surpassed mile 9, the music in my ears faded as if I was running away from the noise. A switch flipped in my head. Clarity washed over my mind and distractions vanished. I understood that my health, determination, and friends led me to this exact day, time, and event. It was no accident that I ended up here with a serious realization. I was privileged to have two legs to run on and a beating heart. My life’s mission is to become the best version of myself and not take anything for granted. To grasp this concept, I needed this race. These miles weren't solely about crossing the finish line or the scenic views. They were about unleashing my true self and not holding myself back.
The Last Few Miles
That's when I started embracing the uncomfortable. It wasn’t sunshine and rainbows, but knew 4 miles to go was nothing (at least that is what I told myself). I thought about my sister laughing, having a good time, and how comforting that was. A lot of times she was laughing at me, but it reassured that she loved me; that is just how siblings are. Our age gap made it difficult to relate to each other because she was over a decade older than me. Despite our differences, we loved each other. She captivated hearts with her beauty and charm, even now. A precious earthy life cut short, but yet an early ascendance to a much more peaceful place.
Almost to the Finish
I visualized her running next to me for the last few miles of the race. The wind's touch on my face, a relief, and a reminder of life and boundless possibilities. The uncomfortable truth I live with is the cliche saying "life is too short." I don’t like to think about death or tragedy, but it’s a real and ongoing truth in this world.
I rounded the last corner, listening to the crowd and people celebrating. My happiness stemmed from dedicating this time to the memory of my sister and personal growth. I kicked it up a notch when I could see the finish line and I crossed it with a picturesque view of Hayden Lake. My first thought was, “Damn, I wish Sara was here to see this.”
Reunited in Spirit
I reunited with her picture and I couldn’t help but wish I could share this moment in the physical realm with her. However, I had an unshakeable sense that she was lingering nearby, just beyond the veil of the spiritual realm.
I trained for this half-marathon, but I did not feel ready. Similar to other runners, I never felt prepared. Yet, I crossed that finish line. My perspective on life has shifted. Every day is a blessing and I’m thankful to get to experience it. I imagine Sara accompanies me on my journeys and adventures. I love my sister and we had many cherished and fun memories together. But one sticks out as I write this story. She was babysitting me and I must have been 5 or 6 years old. Since my hair was vibrant red back then, she thought it would be amusing to joke with me. With a mischievous grin, she ran after me in the house, brandishing a lighter and jokingly claiming she would set me on fire. Don’t get me wrong, that incident terrified me for years. But I look back and think, she truly has lit my soul on fire. Life as I know it is different now, but I promise I won’t waste a bit of it.