Marathon Memories
Today I am grateful for each marathon I have had the opportunity to run. I am also grateful for a beautiful fall day yesterday for yard work and errands.
Part of the fun of pre-marathon time is remembering previous marathon experiences. Each marathon of the 12 we have run holds many memories for both my husband Darcy and I. Of those 12, 11 have found us together at the starting line. We have finished three side by side.
Two of the most powerful and emotional marathon experiences were our first-Chicago in 2004. (It just so happens that today is this year's Chicago Marathon.) And Kansas City in 2009, our first marathon after my cancer diagnosis.
The quality of the pictures below may not be the best (pictures of pictures) but the quality of memories they beckon is top-notch indeed.
The picture above is after the Chicago Marathon. We posed for a picture adorning our medals. My niece Katie and her husband Danny are on the left. Then it's Darcy and I and my sister Ruth. It was Katie and Danny's idea that became the inspiration for this marathon. Read more about that here.
There will always be a special place in my heart and my memory for this first marathon and the unforgettable, indescribable wave of emotion and joy that hit me when I passed mile 26, turned the corner, and saw the finish line. It meant so much to share this memory with family.
This second picture was taken at mile 26 of the Kansas City Marathon on October 17, 2009. The date is one I can recall pretty easily because it was 10 months to the day since my third surgery to address my breast cancer--bilateral mastectomies. You can't tell by the look on my face, but I was full of profound gratitude and feeling so good about being healthy. It was also my first flat-chested marathon. Freedom of a different kind, but it took time to get comfortable with it.
Darcy and I had decided that we wanted to finish this marathon together. Through the marathon of months of appointments, surgeries, recovery, setbacks, chemotherapy, and all things cancer, Darcy had been by my side. It was only fitting that this first marathon on this side of cancer was one we stayed together for step after step, mile after mile.
As we neared the finish, the smiles came. We joined hands and raised them high as we came across the line.
Memories worth savoring.
Part of the fun of pre-marathon time is remembering previous marathon experiences. Each marathon of the 12 we have run holds many memories for both my husband Darcy and I. Of those 12, 11 have found us together at the starting line. We have finished three side by side.
Two of the most powerful and emotional marathon experiences were our first-Chicago in 2004. (It just so happens that today is this year's Chicago Marathon.) And Kansas City in 2009, our first marathon after my cancer diagnosis.
The quality of the pictures below may not be the best (pictures of pictures) but the quality of memories they beckon is top-notch indeed.
The picture above is after the Chicago Marathon. We posed for a picture adorning our medals. My niece Katie and her husband Danny are on the left. Then it's Darcy and I and my sister Ruth. It was Katie and Danny's idea that became the inspiration for this marathon. Read more about that here.
There will always be a special place in my heart and my memory for this first marathon and the unforgettable, indescribable wave of emotion and joy that hit me when I passed mile 26, turned the corner, and saw the finish line. It meant so much to share this memory with family.
This second picture was taken at mile 26 of the Kansas City Marathon on October 17, 2009. The date is one I can recall pretty easily because it was 10 months to the day since my third surgery to address my breast cancer--bilateral mastectomies. You can't tell by the look on my face, but I was full of profound gratitude and feeling so good about being healthy. It was also my first flat-chested marathon. Freedom of a different kind, but it took time to get comfortable with it.
Darcy and I had decided that we wanted to finish this marathon together. Through the marathon of months of appointments, surgeries, recovery, setbacks, chemotherapy, and all things cancer, Darcy had been by my side. It was only fitting that this first marathon on this side of cancer was one we stayed together for step after step, mile after mile.
As we neared the finish, the smiles came. We joined hands and raised them high as we came across the line.
Memories worth savoring.
I am in tears. Thanks for sharing these glorious moments! Good luck in Maine! It should be beautiful there this time of year:-)
ReplyDeleteNice to hear from you Kathy! Glorious is a word that really captures it, and inspires us to keep running. Thanks!
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