There is a feeling you get after a half marathon that is hard to match. At first it felt like no big deal, just a morning conversation. You see all the full marathoners around you and feel a bit wimpy. Then you step a bit away from all the runners and move towards the normal world and you think “Dang, if I can do that, I can do anything. What shall my next challenge be? Shall we travel, hike, or mountain climb? Do I want to rock climb or maybe take up white water rafting?”
Of course, then the pain kicks in and you realize you might not even make it home. But that is not the point.
I told Shah I wanted to start running again for my mebtal health and needed his help. The last thing he did for me was to go to work late that last night so that I could run without Zoya. Of course, we didn’t know it was our last night.
When he first died I couldn’t eat enough to even walk, but a few weeks later Ariel got me back out there and it has been therapy ever since that day.
I realize it was a blessing that I already had a base to start from, because I that time, pushing Zoya in the stroller to talk to Shah and later directly to God.
We quickly chose this race as our goal and got to work. It’s done, but I’m not sad it’s over. It’s time for the next thing, while I rest my body.
The last half marathon I did was al.is four years ago, about one month after I started talking to Shah.
I hate that he wasn’t here today, BUT I’m so glad it is today and not four years ago. I’d so much rather have had every one of our experiences and be his widow, than to not have even met him and think he was just a distraction to pass the time.
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