On Sunday, I'll be running my second-ever half marathon race. It'll be the first "official" 21k race that my Mom and I run together.
For those of you that remember, I've had all sorts of issues and problems and junk with my leg. Running and I sometimes have a love-hate relationship. I love it. My body hates it. Running likes me sometimes. Other times it looks at me all disapproving-like while shaking its head.
Anyway. So this year - by some kind of miracle - I'm doing quite well in the pain department. (Knocking on wood, for the love of god, must knock on wood). Unfortunately, Mumsie - the gazelle-like lady who has not had a single running issue the entire time we've run together - is now injured a teensy bit.
So, this has sort of messed with her head. We ran last night and it was hurting her a bit. Now she's discouraged and worried about how she's going to make it through the race on Sunday. (All runners go through this. We think that the last bad run we had means that EVERY SINGLE RUN FROM NOW UNTIL FOREVER will be bad. It's some weird thing that plagues our minds. Can't help it.)
I understand this feeling. Which is why I want my Mumsie to know this:
You are amazing.
You're 61 (sorry! had to say it to prove my point) and you're running 21 kms. There are a heck of a lot of people out there that can't run 21kms - and a lot of them are much, much younger than you.
You are strong and fit and healthy. And so far, running has almost, but not completely, been easy for you. Now you have a challenge to face. Now you have to deal with this annoyance mentally and physically.
But you know what?
You're going to do it. You're going to finish. And you're going to be thrilled. You're going to have SUCH a sense of accomplishment. Hopefully, you're going to enjoy it along the way, too.
And I? Will be prouder than any daughter could ever be on Mother's Day.