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September 18, 2012 by Amy B

It was tough to get out of bed this morning. I knew it was going to be cold and possibly raining. I hit the snooze for the usual 30 minutes and finally rolled out at 6:00.

Even if I don’t run in the mornings, I have a routine I go through – that I need to go through – because the baby is still nursing. It was chilly in the house so I sat on the couch, covered up my legs with a blanket, and got going on Aaron’s milk stash for the freezer.

I have the habit of checking my email/twitter feed/instagram feed while performing this routine, so I opened my email to find an update to a caring bridge journal of a friend of ours who is about to undergo cancer surgery at Mayo.

The post announced she was going under the knife, I mean, laser, at 5:45am CST, right around the time I would normally be in the middle of whatever distance I’d chosen to run for the morning.

There’s something about knowing a friend is facing the biggest battle in her life that makes getting out on the road for a half-hour run seem like a walk in the park, and makes one feel like an ungrateful ass for balking at the idea in the first place.

So I donned my running jacket (discovered my dog chewed the zipper near the top so it won’t zip completely, grr) and opened the front door.

It was raining.

And cold.

And I thought of [my friend] and stepped out the door anyway.

You never think mornings like these will be your best running days, or at least you don’t plan for it. Her name became my mantra for the next three miles.


It made me think of when Scott’s mom was in the hospital undergoing surgery and chemo and radiation. When we ran the marathon in 2010, we stopped by her hospital room after the race. We only stayed and visited for a brief while; she was tired and wasn’t doing well. I was probably tired, sore, crabby and hungry. It was the last time she was in any shape to have a conversation with any of us, or at least while we were able to visit. There are days I wish I’d have skipped the marathon and just spent the morning in her hospital room, talking.

I don’t dare compare any of my running ventures to anyone’s battle with a deadly disease, and I hate that it often takes such a thing to make me truly appreciate the life and health I have.

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Runner, Eater, Mother, Tweeter

Amy, July 2013

I'm a thirty-something suburbanite turned ruralite living in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Wife, mom of two, eater of all things delicious, and a runner. This is where I blather on about running and health. Baby Number Three will be here in November (so yes, I'm a little crazy), and I'm running through my pregnancy for as long as my body's willing and able. There's also more of me at Read more here.


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