I’m an adrenaline junkie. I love action movies, video games, and loud music. I was a runner, salsa dancer, and kick boxer. Anything that made my heart beat fast was the bees knees for me. It’s when I feel the most “alive”. But there was no adrenaline high that quite compared to running for me.
Running became my favorite time to think, meditate, and pray. When I was angry, sad, or confused I would run harder. There were times I would think if I could run fast enough I know I could sprout wings and fly directly into God’s arms. I would run through physical pain because it made me feel like I had control over what was going on in my body, not the pain. There was even a time in my life where the people closest to me could tell how I was doing by how my tush looked. I could start a run in tears and finishing crashing into the sand laughing. It was when I felt closest to God.
Shortly after becoming pregnant with HQ I was put on bed rest. I watched my 28 inch waist grow into a whopping 46 inches. I didn’t mind THAT much. I was going to have a beautiful baby. And no big deal, I’ll get to run like crazy after she’s born anyway. I counted the days down to the post baby physical. That was when I knew I was going to hear that I could run again. Each day I grew more and more excited. I remember even telling Ty, “Only five more days until my appointment!” It was like I was waited for my best friend to come home from a very long vacation. The day of the doctor’s appointment I patiently went through all the tests and what not. Right before my doctor sat down to tell me the results I blurted out “I can start running now, right?!”, he chuckled and said, “No, honey, you’re done running”. Never had I wanted to punch someone so bad before in my life. I panicked and looked to Ty for comfort. The moment the doctor left the room I hysterically said, “Why don’t they just freaking amputate?!”. Ty laughed thinking I was joking, but then quickly threw his arm around me and said, “We can buy you a bike instead, would you like that?”. I wanted to yell, "No! That's not the same at all! That's like saying, "We're all out of ice cream, here, have and onion"".
I know this won’t earn me any points, but that night after a middle of the night feeding I looked at my beautiful sleeping 6 week old and went all Tom Hanks on her and said, “Earn this”. I truly wish I could say I took it back in that moment, or better yet that it never happened, but I didn’t. Reading that over again makes me feel so pathetic.
Over the next couple weeks I would randomly burst into tears over the death of my running. My prayers had become short and often bitter. Ty would do his best to comfort me saying things like, “I still think you’re hot”, and “I really wish you didn’t care so much about how you looked, it's your heart that matters”. It didn’t help. It wasn’t about how I looked. In my eyes I felt that it was God’s way of saying He didn’t want to talk to me anymore. I just didn’t get it. I struggled with thinking I thought we only lost things were weren’t grateful for. I was SO grateful. I didn’t take it for granted.
I continued to pout for weeks. More and more people would tell me their “secrets” of how they lost their baby weight and a few bolder people even said to me, “why are you letting yourself go? You were so hot.” They had no idea that it was a spiritual struggle I was going through and not a motivational one. A dear friend and I were in a fun lighthearted conversation and all of a sudden she turned to me confided that she idolized something. It was recently taken away from her and, like me, she didn’t understand why. Losing it made her realize how much she idolized it. It finally hit me. I idolized my running. More than that, I idolized feeling like I had that much control.
I do still miss running, but I have learned more from not being able to do it than actually being able to. I have learned how to truly be grateful, how childish I can be, and, most importantly, how to have an open conversation with God at all times. I am now truly thankful for losing "my legs".
Oh, and my husband has yet to get me a bike!
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