It’s Friday! We made it 🙌 I don’t have a particular question or topic in mind today, so I thought I’d open up the floor. What’s on your mind?
Have a question? Or a thought to share?
Something cool/funny/sad/exciting/etc. that happened this week?
Any accomplishments or goals you reached, running-related or not?
(This may be a huge mistake… 🤣 we’ll see!) — Terrell
It’s been a bit of a crazy week on several fronts. But the most significant thing that happened this week was our third daughter (of four) left the nest. She had stayed in town for college since I teach there, as all my children have (free tuition for faculty and staff at a well-regarded private school in this economy? No brainer), so we got to delay the departure by a few years. But she’s off to grad school, starting a doctorate in Audiology, and while I’m excited for her, I’ve been sad for a couple of weeks knowing it was coming.
When she was born, she had some health issues that put her in the NICU for two weeks (they took her from the hospital nursery to the children’s hospital nearby a day after her birth). For a day or two we didn’t know if she would make it. We had people all over the world praying for her and us and had been sending email updates to that prayer chain.
Anyway, while looking on my laptop for a letter I wanted to resend to my daughter, I came across all these updates we sent to the email chain back then, archived in a folder I didn’t even realize was there. I had not read these in many years (she’s 22 now!). They are a 15-day chronicle of fear, trauma, hesitant happiness at her incremental recovery, and ultimately pure joy when I was able to hold her for the first time, and when we took her home because she was healthy.
So there I was in my office, reading through these updates, tears streaming down my face as I remembered the trauma and the powerful emotions from the first days of her life. I sent these to her to read, because I’m not sure we ever shared these daily updates with her, and I reminded her of how much she means to us and how proud we are of her.
And yes I’m holding back tears just typing this all out. Honestly it’s hard to think back to those days and not get emotional. There are songs I hear that we listened to on those daily drives to the children’s hospital that I can’t hear now without crying.
So that’s been my week. Thanks for letting me share this overly personal item!
This week has been one of reflection for me. Six years ago today, we buried my father.
He loved sports and teaching. His father was a high school teacher and coach, and my dad became a high school teacher and a coach. He coached any sport he could: baseball, basketball, softball, track and field, cross county, etc. He was even my coach in softball and basketball after he retired as a teacher. Now one of my high school teammates is a basketball coach and still does his drills, which is a great way to continue his memory.
He sure loved coaching track and field and cross country. He would tell me stories of his best runners, and his runners would tell me stories of his coaching. Even on his last year on earth, he was helping a high schooler with a field event, and she ended up placing in state after his death.
When I started getting into running in my late 20s, I would have conversations with him about running. He would ask about my races, and my workouts. He was so proud of any of his kids and grandkids getting into sports, but it meant a lot to start running since it's mentally such a hard sport to start. At least in my case!
His legs started abandoning him in the 2000s, so it was hard for him to get around in his later years. But when I told him I would run or hike a certain path, he would drive it or drive past it to see it for himself. One of my last conversations I had with him was about how he drove past a trail I was hiking and gave his opinion of it.
Sometimes on a run, a cardinal will fly in front of me, and I will say, "Hi, dad! Still tracking my runs, I see!"
Thanks for letting me reflect on a difficult day!