I believe in my Marines

I believe in my Marines

www.HonorRun.com

It hasn’t been the best day. I woke to problem after problem my race. I won’t bore you with the details, but every aspect of the race I'm putting feel apart. A flooded river, a few sponsor checks ‘still in the mail’, vendor payments due, insurance, moving the race route… these are just a few! We’re behind nearly two grand with these issues! The race is deeply sinking into in the red as the river rises. We have fought uphill for publicity, for time, for sponsors, for anything to help us with what we felt, feel, is a great cause. Unfortunately, the structure of Marine Week does not allow our charitable events to be publicized with the Governments activities of Marine Week. Understandable, but difficult for us little guys wanting to help. Registration is hundreds less than we anticipated. Hundreds!  We want to show the Marines that they are respected, appreciated, and loved. And in doing so, not take a dime for the work we’re putting in. Give every penny of profit to charities that directly support Marines. In my own little world here, I had assumed this City loved our armed forces with the passion that I do. I assumed we were a City full of patriots; that no matter the political views, we believed in our Marines.  Well, we all know what assuming does.

I ran out of options today… I mean really out of options. Possible suck up the t-shirt cost on my own accord and cancel the whole thing out of options.

A few last ditch emails… spamming everyone I know just asking for them to spam everyone they know in case there may be some stragglers that just don’t know about us yet. A few more just to get us to break even.

After a start at advertising around the City today, I drove 20 miles back home to collect any additional registration checks to deposit, as every little bit is needed to pay what we can today. I even found each of the jars at home containing any change. I start to fall apart a little, and I know it’s progressing to a lot. I decided take a minute to get my head on straight. I put on the video I made for the race as I get changed into some running gear. I see John’s face focus in at the end. And I simply told him “I miss you every single day.” And I sucked it up and headed out the door.

I ran my usual route and about two miles in turned towards the Veterans monument. I ran into the beautiful columns and headed straight to his name. I kissed it as I do each day on my run, only this time I sat at it’s feet instead of continuing on.

“John, I’d do anything for you. And I do all this to keep you close to me. Maybe that’s selfish… but it’s what I need to find hope in all this.  And the things you’ve brought to me since you’ve passed… amazing, unbelievable things, unbelievable people. Even just in the last few days… it’s all because of you. Because of this foundation, but also because of who you helped me become…  believing in me everyday since we met. I just don’t know this time if I am strong enough. I don’t have any tricks to pull out of my hat anymore. I find these ways to get things done because you told me to never be a quitter and that my strength was the biggest. When I didn’t want to be strong anymore, you refused to let me fail. You always saved me, and you did it by standing by me and making me save myself. And I can never tell you how much that changed me. I don’t know how my strength and belief  is going to be enough this time. See, I’m quitting - Kick me in the ass or something. Well, I certainly am not going to be a quitter, but this hill is so much higher than I can climb without you…” And I began to stand up…

And my phone beeped. A man I had sent a last ditch ‘please spam everyone to register’ plea to simply replied: "I have two more signed up to sponsor a Marine to run."  Awesome, 42 more and I’ll stop seeing red.

Then my phone dinged again:

“Marine Jeff Ortega will have a check for $2000 in his hand tomorrow morning.”

And I feel to my knees.

I believe in our Marines.

**Thank you JH for your big heart and your pride. You generous gift is so much more than a dollar sign can show.

As I lay dying

As I approached my house at the end of eleven miles, I let my legs collapse and fell to the wet grass. The sky seemed even brighter, as if someone over-saturated a photo and carefully tucked it behind the clouds. I suppose the sparkling floaters in my vision helped to abstract the moment. It has been too long since I ran in the sunshine and I must admit, I may have taken it a little overboard on the speed and mileage. I felt my heartbeat slowly retreating back into my chest. The sensation in my legs finally began to resemble pain after miles of heavy emptiness.



I laid there, simply remembering to breathe, trying to catch any whisper of oxygen that might remain.




 In.





Out.








 in.      













  out.








And as I lay dying, I let go.

I stopped fighting what was inevitable, what had to come.

That doubtful girl, worried, sickly, scared, overwhelmed, the one that wanted to quit long before the final mile.... I left her lying there. I had no need for her anymore.


That pain, in that exhaustion, I am so very alive. I can only hope the afterlife is half as good as this.



In my place,

Beth

Think before you step

After much procrastinating, I found a brief warm patch today and went for run... it was a whole 18 degrees! I went back to read some July posts just to feel warmer. I didn't quit, despite losing feeling in my toes in the piles of snow. I kept reminding myself that I am not a quitter. I am not a quitter. I made it two miles.

I spent the next two hours sitting in front of my portable heater trying to regain feeling. I am on record as stating that a foot of snow and near zero wind chills change the term "quitter" to "idiot". From now on, when I think it is necessary to run outside in this weather, I will remind myself that I am not an idiot. I am not an idiot. And I will get in my vehicle and drive to the YMCA.

Somedays, I just don't think.

In side,
Beth



Workout: 2 miles. No swim. No bike. No P90x.
Tomorrows Goal: 2 mile run. 30 minutes bike. P90x.

If you're training with me, you can adjust down to a 20 minute walk/ jog, 30 minute recumbant bike, and any 1 hour weight resistance class or workout video.

Food: Vegan pizza bake

            Crust: 2 cups heart healthy Bisquick or organic wheat flour, egg replacer for 6 egg white equvalent (1/3 soy yogurt per egg, 1&1/2 tsp egg replacer powder per egg, flax seed, or other), 6 tbsp water, 1/2 tsp garlic powder. MIX ALL INGREDIENTS

            Topping: homemade tomato sauce or vegan sauce of your choice, browned soy crumbles, red onion, mushrooms, tomatoes, vegan cheese (mozzarella or smoked provolone)

           Preheat to 400 degrees. Coat a baking pan with extra virgin olive oil before filling with crust. Cover with sauce and toppings. Top coat of cheese and sprinkle with basil, garlic powder, and a pinch of oregano. Bake for 25 minutes.

 Healthy Pizza as easy as pie!

And it begins....

I'm back and you missed me. :) I am officially released from my doctor as of today and am ready to head back into life.

I never shared my new goal with you... left you hanging didn't I? Well, wait no more. Join in if you dare. New Goal: Triathlon. Not only a triathlon, but to successfully complete a competitive triathlon before the end of this summer. Next goal: Full marathon before the end of the year. Last goal: to thrive as a vegan athlete, everyday.

So who's with me? Who dares to join on any of the three goals above? I will be traveling for the end of the year marathon and am thrilled to help anyone interested in going with me... I have a plan, it works. No excuses. I lost nearly 80 lbs last year and went from being winded climbing the stairs to running 13 miles with ease. Change is good. Choose it.

I am starting with my workout reporting: P90x (we have a love/ hate relationship) and a run, everyday except Sunday. Sundays will be a day off to recover my muscles. Truly, I will take the day off. In addition to these, I will also be doing spinning and swimming laps to prepare for the tri.

Next, I will be sharing my meals: all vegan, almost all homemade. I cannot tell you enough how wonderful I feel since I changed to a completely vegan diet. So you get to hear about it, and try out a few delicious things, despite your reluctance.

Finally, I will of course venture off into my mental healing and share with you my triumphs and struggles.

So it's back to everyday... With more to share, even more happiness than before, and plenty of tools for you to succeed with me.

Join in. Life is great here.

In training,
Beth

The long goodbye

I woke up early today... there was a lot to do before my final farewell to this year's quest.

I began the day by running with a friend, who challenged me to be better than my best this year and proved to me that anyone can overcome, anyone can survive, and thrive if they choose. It turned out to be the perfect start to this special day. I see where my quest has brought me personally, and brought others too. And that is a gift I never expected.

I immediately took to the streets after my early jog to do my strongest run. I ran eight miles, full speed, no timer, no gear, just me. I ran a mile for each week of chemo I endured and in doing so, I took back what was mine. My feet flew through the winds and rain, and I never noticed the difference. I just kept on my way, as life tends to do. I made it home winded, drenched, and worn for the wear, but I made it home.

The rest of today I have spent reviewing my progress, my weaknesses and my strengths. In this year I fixed a marriage I was too busy to know was breaking. I closed the doors to one time dream that weighed me down. I found my heart, forgave myself, let go, and moved on.  I ran 684 miles this year. I went on a quest and found the end, only to realize it is the beginning.

I am here, I am whole, and I endure. And I can simply say, I have everything.

Here's to tomorrow.

In complete,

Beth

Enough

Have you ever actually paid attention to how we are directed to be less active, eat terribly, and become an overweight nation? In the last ten minutes, I have seen nine ads for food on TV. Not one of those ads were for healthy food. Six ads were for fast food, showing nutritionally void, high calorie, high fat foods: a chili cheese extra long hot dog, a family eating double cheeseburgers and fries, a talking hat pushing double chocolate milkshakes,  a "healthy" sandwich shop's cheese covered meatball sub, a big bucket of fried chicken, and finally a large stuffed crust three topping (all meat) pizza.

Of the other three, one showed a large family sitting down at a restaurant sharing pasta and breadsticks, then pans to a close up of the deep fried meat on layers of noodles, as a white cream sauce drenches the entire plate. Another showed cans of soup, promoting their low calorie and low fat benefits. I went ahead and looked up the nutritional facts of the soup shown on the ad... one half of the can, which is the size of my hand, is one serving. In that one serving there is over three times the daily recommended amount of sodium. On the ingredient list for this fresh soup, there are double the number of chemical compounds compared to vegetables. And to top it all off, it's second listed ingredient, right after beef broth, is high fructose corn syrup. The final ad showed something entirely different, a weight loss company that delvers food to your door. There isn't room in this blog to even go there....

So why is it this way? I know, but do you? Have you thought about it?

I'm tired of it. I'm tired of the endless, mindless circle of overeating, under educating, increased laziness of who we've become, as an entire nation. We eat ourselves sick, drug ourselves well, and repeat the process until we've killed everything that is alive about this life. Kids grow up eating the shit served to them at school, and at home... scratch that, in their car.  They want junk because we allow it. They choose to lay around because we let them. The overeat, under nourish, under develop and over stimulate because that is the example we have set.

Every time I check out at the store, I send a message. Every time I turn off the TV, I send a message. Every time I speak up and speak out in front of my kids, I send a message. Every pound I lose, everyday I get up, every time I sweat, I send a message.

Join me.

Change this.

In-furiated,
Beth

Winter morning

There is little in this life that will ever compare to the beauty of a winter morning run. It's the few rare days where the world stays sleeping a little longer, and the sun isn't needed for a glorious morning sky. In these mornings, I find dark pathways alive with the festive lights and their reflection in the patches of snow. The eerie sound of silence is no longer alarming, but peaceful as the morning wrestles in. The streets are empty; the roads are clear. It's the one time of year that I thrive without the music pushing me on. This sweaty quest warms me as I run, and the harder I push the better it feels...

After 6 miles this morning, I remember how it feels to be alive. I got to stand in my children's doorway and watch them sleep. I got to come home to my husband who didn't hurry off to work. I got to enjoy an hour of peaceful existence... and I recognize the moment.

I know this sweaty quest has taken me down more winding roads than ever could have imagined. But I've found what I was looking for, and I keep looking everyday so it never again becomes lost.

In love,
Beth

The *itch is back!

I'm back and if you've been sitting on your ass this whole time, you better slouch down a little lower to make certain I can't find you. You don't need me to get you out the door, do it your damn self. I am not your excuse; I'm not even my own. I have no empathy, born without it... hide people. Truly, hide.

Today, I did with full resistance the treadclimber for 30 minutes at my 100% mhr. Everyday I focused on today and how great it would feel to come back. I may have been knocked down and buried deep; I never gave up. I never looked for an excuse. And most importantly, once again, I showed up.

So get up. Suck it up. Suck it in and move forward. Your limits are just that, yours... yours to create and yours to destroy. Tomorrow I'll do more. Everyday I'll do more because this IS life.

Your excuse just officially got slammed. Set your alarm.

In sweat,

Beth

33

Tomorrow is the last treatment. Today is my birthday. Yesterday was my record breaking cardio since starting treatement.

This is my 33rd year. I have a new goal.

In spired,
Beth

Dog Days

I am up. I am on my feet. Two days after treatment and I actually feel... well, good! Hit an awesome run this morning, feeling like Rocky running up the stairs. And the crowd cheers...

It's almost done; this is nearly over. Just two more treatments, then back to health, work, and running everyday! I miss this so much. I miss feeling good. It is such a simple gift, that never gets appreciated. That winter cold is not worth whining about, neither is your headache. Good enough should be considered great. Perspective people. Simple perspective.

I've been miserable for the last six weeks. I've hated, I've  pitied, I've even died a little, but am so lucky to find more life at the end once again. That misery can eat your soul. I'm strong enough to have survived it, to dig out from that living grave. And I'm smart enough to appreciate it, and let it go.

 As for the next two Fridays, I will feel good enough. And for today, let's just call it great.

The dog days are over, the dog days are done...

In daylight,
Beth

Sharp roots

It's been hard to lift my fingers to a keyboard, to put words into a sentence, or even just have a simple coherent thought. I have, for just a moment, found a short glimpse of myself. As I am waiting for my next treatment, which thankfully is the first of the final four, I find a million coherent thoughts running through my weakened mind and my fingers are shaking trying to keep on task here. I have not been able to run, but on most days have beeb able to take a short walk. This morning I decided to go for a brief run in the cold just to own my own existence again, even if for just a minute. I ran about 2 miles on sheer will, and a final mile on the deep, sharp roots of anger. I wasn't fast, but I was there. I made it home only to crawl to the stairs for a good cry against the spindles... and my breathe became mine again.

In haling,

Beth

When I'm not looking

People are funny. As I run by, music blasting in my ears, I see each of you as a character in a movie. I don't know you from Adam. I know about you only what I see when I'm there looking. I am a stranger to you, so you don't mind. Your p.j.'s are fine, hair all a mess. No worries about your dated glasses, worn slippers, or morning rant at the dog. I love getting a little glimpse of what surrounds me. A little window into the world that exists outside my own. I start to realize, as I run past, that I am also a character to them. That girl that runs this street everyday. Hair all a mess, worn running shoes, the morning rant at her ipod....

As I reach the country roads, there's a lot less to see. The view is great, don't get me wrong, but there isn't the challenge of knowing who someone is when I'm not looking.

I loved running past the young man who entered his car, suitcase in hand, only after a long hug with his sleepy wife.  And the smiling old woman's as she picked up todays news stories from her drive...

Then there's the man too busy to wave goodbye, too rushed to see his wife and kids patiently waiting at the door, hoping for even the simplest acknowledgement. I keep running as the expensive cars drive by, with an isolated driver who must be the busiest person in the world. Always fixing their reflection, too involved to see the stop sign. As I approach the bigger homes, the less people I see. The houses always seem empty, no lights, no toys, no mess. I'm not sure anyone actually lives there. I'm not sure if anyone would call them home...

I think about all these people I pass through the streets. I think of how they are to each other: their families, their neighbors, to themselves. What makes some love themselves enough to brave the morning light with dated glasses, worn slippers, and hair all a mess? And others love each other so deeply as to hold that hug a little longer, to let that tear fall, even for the shortest goodbyes.  And if that life is an option, why do some seem so miserable?

It is no family unless the respect is enough to show that love to strangers. And when the one's you know aren't looking, does the ring stay on the finger? Is it too loose and slips into a pocket? Or is it around a tacky gold necklace where those who are looking can't see it from where they've sunk to? I watch too many slip away from their homes and onto the street as different people. I have a birds eye view in running. I am nearly invisible to you, but over time I get to know who you are by your reflection when no one's looking... In these moments, I can also see my own, and find peace in the glimpses I leave.


We are what we do. Our reflections show who we are to others, show us what they see when we aren't looking. I don't just say the words and hide. I don't have different faces for everyday. My ring stays on, as do the beads on my wrist, as does my smile. I pin my heart on my sleeve for everyone to see. My sweaty footprints are consistent, even if not always at the same stride.  I know one day I may not be on this street looking. I may not be here to be seen. I just hope the glimpses I leave can be inspiring... beautiful, messy moments of living.

And, sir, put that ring back on... the reflection from your neck is blinding from up here.

In view,
Beth

Heavy Footprints

As I ran down the street this morning, I thought hard about lifting one foot and placing it in front of the other. It is starting over everyday. I fight harder. I have to, even knowing that tomorrow will be the same battle. I do this with a certainty that, in the end, I will be restored, healthy, and able to step on the ten mile trail like this eight weeks never happened. But, of course, there is no guarantee. I can't be promised by anyone that the easy run will ever again exist. I can't tangibly feel the runners high that floats through that future. I can't feel the loving embrace of the wind or that ever present strength of my heartbeat as I push the limits of what my body knows. I suppose this is what defines faith. Anyone of us could substitute a Deity of choice into this. For all our differences, all our religious judgements, we are all taught to have faith.

I have faith in my feet. I have faith in week nine.

In heavy footprints,
Beth

All you can take.

Then you stand.

In running shoes,

Beth

I lie

It's quite a sucker punch. Meds are in and I'm out for 24-48 hours. I am getting plenty of practice for both menopause and the flu. Amazed at how much more my body can handle when my mind decides it has to...

Bets on my running return? Sunday or Monday? Of course my money's for Saturday night...

So I lie,

In bed, a big improvement from the bathroom,

Beth

It'll be okay

Sometimes the simplest words can heal us. I have been searching for the right words, well, for nearly a week. Words strong enough to heal physical pains and restore emotions long since drained. I've been writing and running as I could, but not sharing. I apologize to so many of you for that selfishness. I have needed some time for my own thoughts to gather, for my own strength to grow. I ran, and I run, and I will run again tomorrow and it will continue to save me. When the words can't leave my head, my feet can clear a path.

I am coming to terms with the simplest fact that I won the battle, but not yet the war. I have treatments to go through, some surgeries up ahead, and long drawn out fight with my lymphatic system. And now that I'm done letting it beat me, I am prepared to beat it. I am grateful for what running has given me. I am grateful for the one arm that is still typing today, the strong pain tolerance I have developed from the sharp rocks on the road, the simplest serenity of my meditation, the unending love of soul mates, and the unhinged power of a run that finally allows my words to flow onto the page.

It'll be okay. Everyone has told me this, over and over again, and now I'm telling you. I know... It seems  hollow at first.  I even cry that it's not, and that we don't know, and that it is so very unfair. It'll be okay. It'll be okay. It'll all be alright. I just want to scream.... But after a few days, those words start to fill with love and I start to resent them less. A few more days and the words begin to fill with hope, even faith, and I crave that reassurance. And finally, like today, those words begin overflowing; they become unending. And once that happens, I realize I am lost without them. It may not seem like much, but it is the job of the people that love us to tell us it'll be okay. It's so very important, even in the moment we may hate you for it.

It's all that is needed in the end of the day, and even in the end of the journey. Simply the compassion to  know that it's okay, and the bravery to remind us... reminding us until we are so drenched by the thought that we become it.

It'll be okay. I'll do this again. This time, I enter stronger and healthier in every other way. This time, with a doctor who understands that reducing my miles is rest. And that rest is only for the weary, not necessarily the tired. This time, enduring with the power of hundreds of people running with me, running for me, and running beside me.

Thanks to my fancy new shoes, my duct taped old ones, my favorite new doctor, my cranky old doctor,  my painfully chilly fall mornings on the road, and the snowbound runs ahead, I am telling the statistics to suck it. I'm not afraid. I'm better than the anger. And I'm back.

Sunrise-run suckers... catch me if you can.

In sheer will,

Beth

Pooh and Piglet

If ever there is tomorrow when we’re not together... there is something you must always remember. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we’re apart... I’ll always be with you.-- Winnie the Pooh

I spent a lot of time considering this post. I had an enlightening last 24 hours, to say the least. I may have gone even gone a little crazy for a bit, but I'm pulling back up nicely. I ran this morning to try and clear my head. My heart still laid heavy at my feet as I tried to pull myself down the street. You see, for the past five years, I have tried finding a specific card that was sent to me when I was in my freshman year of college. I had known, even at eighteen, that this card was very special and that I should keep it close. And for the past five years, I have tried to remember what the card said.

I received many letters and cards at the time. The internet was still very new so we still actually wrote letters to our friends. I thought about so many of these letters when I ran today and eventually, my steps got lighter as my heart began to drop some heavy weights. As I hit mile 7, I realized that my superglue and duct tape job on my shoes was not going to hold up much longer. I quickly focused my thoughts and dried my tears. I let the wind absorb and heal me, then headed home.

Last night I had found that letter, just by accident, as I found my oldest son's baby book. All packed tightly in a box that had been moved with my parents. I'm certain from their old house to their new, with a brief stop in a storage center for the past year. I had thought I was emptying old college books, financial ledgers, and junk, so when I came across the baby book, I was a little overwhelmed. As I flipped through the pages, I, of course, became a little teary eyed at the footprints, the little pictures, and the letters written to my son when he was only weeks old. As I put the book up onto my bookshelves, a long lost card fell from the back of the book.

The card simply showed Piglet and Pooh on the front, holding hands and walking through the woods. Piglet was looking up to Pooh, asking a question. My heart dropped as I opened the card, hoping. 

The simple inscribed answer seems, as if it was everything, then and now. To see John's handwriting again, as if he had just sent me the letter from his small room at the Naval Academy, as if I could write him back and hope to get it to the mailbox at the end of my hall before noon... as if he were right here, helping me get through another day, as he had done for so many years. 

I have found what I needed, when I actually needed it. If for even one second I have ever doubted that life brings you what you need.... If I have ever doubted that some people are just more than us... If I ever doubted that my friend was as much as I remember him to be... 

I am humbled and restored.

The strength to do, the strength to fight, to believe I can beat something than seems so much bigger than me. The belief that I can, and I will... 

My journey has never been from me, but from those who made me, and showed me, and loved me. So much of me now is because of John. He never doubted me, always believed in me, and gave me so much more than I could ever repay. So I pay it forward, that simple love and respect and friendship. That simple peace in the company of true grace. And I write him back, with as much excitement as a scared teen finding a piece of home. And I let him know:

I'm okay. I am surviving on my own here. I've made great new friends here, and even found a great love. You're words inspire me and get me through the tough times. I miss you more than you could ever know. I didn't appreciate how special our friendship was until you went away. I know you are happy there, being everything you were meant to be. I just wished it was somewhere closer to me. I hope it's everything you'd known it could be. I hope, more than anything, that you can feel my love from so far away. Remember when we held hands and prayed before we left? How you'd asked for God to protect me, and for me to know that I always have you and for our friendship to be forever? I remember your voice, and your hands, and our tears. It was so hard to say goodbye to you, but I knew that you'd always follow your dreams. And you still inspire me to follow mine. And when I can't find my way home, I know you'll find me.

I miss you and love you, my best friend. You are more than you know, stronger than you ever were, and as smart as you thought.

Always,

Beth

In tears,

Beth

A long time running

I actually killed my shoe... the sole pulled off as I approached my second mile this morning, in the dark, in the cold.

So I have now done my first 3 mile barefoot run.

What's left of my shoes is lying beside a lamp post a few miles down the road. I'll pick them up in a little while so they may have their proper hero's burial. I will miss my trusted friends. The have taken me safely through hundreds of miles and suffered through my toughest times. They've comforted me through good and bad, hot and cold. But, as with all good things, their run has come to an end.

Barefoot running wasn't so bad. I learned a little about my running stride that I hadn't noticed before and I was able to find my pain tolerance for cold, sharp rocks. I even forgot about the pain of my half closed windpipe from my swollen thyroid... so barefoot running has it's benefits. Just maybe it'll be better served when it's warmer than 50 degrees.

I am stronger than I thought, tougher than I imagined, and more resilient than I've ever been. And once again, I have a great experience to use when any one of you thinks that you want to slow down or quit cause it hurts.

Just try to find an excuse....

In warm socks,

Beth

Maddest Hopes

So many of you wonderful readers have sent me messages over the past week, letting me know that you are running! Your best wishes are greatly appreciated and my unnerved spirit goes with you on your runs... And I am still yelling for you to do more.

I received a stronger treatment today, which will mean that by tomorrow morning I will be able to do some light running. It is what gets me through the misery of the rest of this %^&*. I am becoming more patient with today's work bringing tomorrow's reward. Of course, I am still fighting the anger. I am angry at my own body for not giving my soul health. I am angry at the world for not using their health; I feel as if it is wasted on people who do not acknowledge or achieve it. I am even angry somedays at the sunrise for rising without my sweaty footsteps, and the sunset for taunting me with fiery displays that burn through even the most tightly closed blinds. I am even angry at my sweet doctor, for not have the answer that I want.

But... I move forward. I move on to brighter thoughts, such as tomorrow, where I'll wake with the smallest lump in my throat, not from the mass that hinders me, but from the happy tears that well as I lace my filthy, mile-ridden shoes. I have those days of hope that remind me that it won't be this hard forever. I try to keep patience for my body to continue healing enough for surgery, hopefully before this month ends. I have hope that because this journey has brought me to this stronger, it will see me through this with grace.

I'll be running the sunrise tomorrow. Will you?

In hope,
Beth

I ran.

Shhhh... I just ran 6 miles. A little help from my understanding Doc and off I went. Just don't tell the mean Doc. Oh wait, he reads this. I wore my heart rate monitor. I slowed my pace. A little fluid drained and some steroids.... thanks Doc! I know it's just a temporary fix, but it saves my life in more ways than you know!

:)

In each moment,
Beth