Why not run a marathon? Are you motivated by achievement of a personal best or an accomplishment of a goal? Maybe the marathon defines success. In a few days, I’m running the Chicago Marathon to honor – my daughter Jodi.
And so, this post is dedicated to Jodi.
Death has a way of challenging your own personal growth and development. It is definitively the absolute finality of our physical being. It comes with sharp awareness, clarity and focus in the realm of one’s reality with a new perspective. And death will be your teacher in redefining all of one’s priorities – no matter how big or small.
Although it has been six years since the ultimate endurance race of my lifetime then at the age of 45. That race had little to do with my physical fitness conditioning. At that moment in time, little did I know that it would significantly change me forever.
Because in January, 2005 my daughter Jodi at the age of nineteen died and so did a part of me.
Cancer was not invited to be a part of my plan or Jodi’s. And now, how do I as a mother begin to put all of the pieces together?
Marathon running is a conduit in the realm of possibilities – even when situations seem impossible. It began in August, 2006 with the NYC Half Marathon – my first emergence back into a big city race. Then, Marine Corps Marathon, October, 2007 and More Half Marathon, April, 2008 – both in cities which connected me with Jodi’s friends and pursued the goal of 50 miles by 50.
Marathons teach us to use our minds in a new way that truly defines ourselves. Instead of focusing on assumptions or fears, we discover what magical powers we have! We choose to run the race that is set before us with an attitude of “why not” as opposed to “why.”
So, on Sunday I will be running with you – Jodi beside me in spirit – and your brother cheering alongside the streets of Chicago and your father via text messages. Not matter what the conditions are on race day, running slow doesn’t serve this race yet alone the greater race of life. Now I know that lesson for sure – because you taught me.