I am going to do this. It’s not going to be easy, but I am going to
do this. I may stumble along the way,
but I am going to do this. I don’t know
for sure if I’ll be able to reach my goal, but I am going to do this. I’m going to start. I’m going to give it my all. “My all” may not be much at this point, but
it’s something. Best of all, I’m not
going to do this alone. That makes a
huge difference. That makes this at least
seem possible.
“This” could be any number of
things, and that could be said by any number of people. Running a marathon. Applying for a job. Losing Weight. Writing a novel. Saving money.
Going (back) to school. Painting
a portrait. Learning another
language. Mastering the Paso Doble. Bowling a perfect game. Anything, really.
For me right now, “this” is the
first one on that list. Well, not exactly running a marathon. Not exactly running even, but it’s in that
family. It’s the NYC Blacklight Run. Ok, for me, it’s the NYC Blacklight
Walk. Or Blacklight Limp. Or Stumble.
Or Crawl. But it’s the Blacklight
SomethingMoreThanSittingOnMyCouch, and I’m looking forward to it. Ok, I’m looking forward to it with dread. And
anticipation. And excitement. And fear. And pride.
Yes, pride. I may be the last person to finish (and I may
not even be able to finish at all), but I’m proud of myself for signing up for
it. Most days, I’m winded just walking from my car to my apartment building, but I still signed up. Most days it hurts to stand for more than 10
minutes, but I still signed up. Most
days I’m in pain in at least 2 or 3 limbs and at least 2 or 3 joints, in addition to my head
and my back, but I still signed up.
When I saw an ad for this event,
my first thought was “that looks like so much fun!” Soon after, I was hit with all the other
voices in my head telling me why I shouldn’t do it, why I couldn’t do it. I’m too sick.
I’m too fat. I’m too … well, it
was probably just about 100 different versions of those two. But the first
thought came back again, and kept coming back: it looks like so much fun, and I
really want to do it. And back to the
others, even louder than before: but … but … but … ! Then finally I said to myself,
“Oh, shut the
but up!!!”
Once I decided that I wanted to
walk this run, I had a new problem: I couldn’t do it alone. For one thing, it’s not exactly close by: it’ll
take about an hour to get there (most likely more, considering traffic), which
is more than I’m comfortable driving since I get dizzy and my vision gets fuzzy
sometimes. For another, who goes to a
run by themselves? Ok, runners do, but
that’s different – they actually run
for the sake of running, and are done with a 5K before I can even reach the
first mile marker. But when we’re
talking about going to a fun run (or
walk), how much fun could it be if you’re there by yourself just watching
everyone else run past you while they’re laughing with their friends?
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| (No, that's not us) |
I posted the event on Facebook,
wondering if anyone else would want to do it.
I didn’t think they would though, mainly because it’s far from where
most people I know live. Besides, this
is just a fun run. The real runners I know
would probably not want to slow down, especially for a race that isn’t serious. And the non-runners would be more likely to
join one of the charity fundraiser events that I am involved with than one that’s
just for fun (though I discovered afterwards that the Blacklight Run actually donates
to local charities from every run – bonus!).
Oh, and some people don’t
consider the idea of running (or walking) 3.2 miles while glow-in-the-dark
powder is thrown on them fun! So I didn’t
really expect any response. Wrong
again! Right away, a childhood friend of
mine (lost for years but reconnected via fb) said she would walk it with
me. Now it’s one thing for someone who
couldn’t run to say she’d be happy to walk with me (one really great thing, for
sure), but this is no out of shape walker like me. This is a badass chick in her own right – a
girl who does Spartan races and Warrior Dashes for fun, so a walk seems like it
would be boring for her. But she’s doing
this with me. For me. And
that means so much to me.
Even though it feels like I have
everything against me, I still wanted to do this. I’m trying so hard not to let my illness keep
me from having a life. Sure, most things
are harder to do now, and I know I’m going to be really suffering after this
event … but it’s a choice I’m making, and in my mind, it will be worth it. Besides, I don’t really have everything against me. I’ll have two very important people with me
(and yes, mom, I know you’re always with me, even when you’re not), and that
makes all the difference. I am We are going to do this.
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