. . . I have control.

I had the privilege of attending a luncheon today with the other DetermiNation team members for the Providence Rock N' Roll.  One of my team members is a cancer survivor himself . . . a year out of treatment in fact.  Like me dad, he too had head and neck cancer.  When training for a marathon he noticed a lump in his neck after recovering from a cold.  He went to his doctor who at first assumed lymphoma.  The next day he was diagnosed with Stage 4 aggressive cancer.  After intense treatment, including both radiation and chemotherapy, a feeding tube, and surgery he spoke in front of me today cancer free.

When undergoing treatment, he made the commitment to run three marathons within his first year of being cancer free.  He did that, and will be running a half in addition tomorrow.  As he told his story, he said that running was the only thing felt he had control over after being diagnosed with cancer.  While he couldn't begin logging miles immediately after treatment, he could commit to walk a block, and then two, and then run a block.  He said that in the midst of chaos, he felt he still had something that no one else could control. 

A big light bulb went off for me in this luncheon.  I was a mix of emotions as I still get angry when I encounter cancer survivors, especially those who had similar diagnoses as my dad.  I am admittedly selfish for these thoughts and while I would NEVER wish cancer upon anyone in the entire world, my first question when I meet someone like this gentleman is, "Why couldn't my dad have the same fate?  Why isn't he here to run with me tomorrow?  Why can't I be running in celebration, rather than memory and honor?"  You would think that after two years such thoughts would subside . . . for me they have not.

Anyway, back the light bulb . . . control.  I have found it funny that it has only been in the last few months that I have committed to running and stuck with it.  Now I know why.  In the last two years, I have been anything but in control of so many aspects of my life.  My dad was diagnosed with cancer, I went to grad school where I often felt at the mercy of others thoughts and ideas, my dad passed away, I moved across the country, I started a new job, etc.  A lot of change!  And often I feel as though I am in the middle of a tornado desperately seeking out something to hold onto.  In the end, I have to accept that a huge part of me thought I could control my dad's fate.  Two years later I am still trying to accept that I couldn't then, I can't now, and my lack to do so does not mean I didn't fight like hell and he didn't give it all he had.  I guess it's just hard to accept that you can fight that hard, hope that much, be that faithful, and still lose.

In the midst of such chaos and change, running is an anchor.  It provides time in my day that is only mine.  No matter how overwhelmed I feel, stressed out I am, or how much I want to give up, the streets I run remain consistent, predictable, and constant.  When I set out on a run, no one else gets to make requests, demands, suggestions, etc.  It's all mine.  I choose when to run, where to run, and how far to run.  I choose to further my mileage.  I choose to better my time.  It's all mine.  With my running shoes on my feet, it doesn't matter that my student loans are due, or that my job is not yet permanent, or that I miss home, or that I ate a cupcake for lunch, or that my sister and I are struggling through a disagreement.  Instead, it's a time for me to soak up the sun, lengthen my stride, and focus only on whether to do three miles or five, run easy or do intervals. 

During my lunch today it hit me . . . I don't necessarily LOVE running.  Instead, I love forgetting, escaping, and finding a place that it is all my own.  I can find that nowhere other than in my running shoes.  If you can believe it, it beats a bubble bath - not by much - I think it's only because my runs are longer than it takes for hot water to get cold! 

BECAUSE I RUN, I have control.  I have control over my choices, my decisions, and my perspective.  Running helps me remember the many things I don't have control over, but can enjoy anyway . . . the sun in sky, the rain in the clouds, the humidity in the air.  Running reengages my mind to savor the things that make me happy , and ignore the things that don't.  Running reminds me that bills will always be there, life will always be tough, challenges ebb and flow, and happiness is always up to you.  BECAUSE I RUN, I control my happiness and what it takes to achieve it, live it, and enjoy it.  When I run, I control putting one foot in front of the other, and often, that is enough to make me realize that everything will be okay.

There are clubs you can’t belong to, neighborhoods you won’t live in, schools you can’t get into, but the roads are always open. – JUST DO IT