Last November, it seemed like I had ages before I had to deal with May 24. Last November, I thought I’d be running 5K distances without breaking a sweat by now (I’m sort of the queen of deluding myself, since I also thought my first run with my superfit coworkers would be a piece of cake and it wasn’t). Last November, I thought I would also be noticeably lighter by May because in addition to following the Couch to 5K Program, I would have also adopted healthy eating habits.

When you’re a superhero in training like I am, these things don’t happen quite as quickly or easily as they do in your mind. For example, I never could get up to running three minutes without feeling like I would die, and, well, the Couch to 5K program sort of expects you to be able to run a good 30 minutes without having to walk by the end of it. I got discouraged that I couldn’t get past that point. What I’ve learned through this journey is that it’s ok that I’m not the perfect C25K student. Just because I didn’t make it to the end of the program according to their criteria, and get my A+ doesn’t mean that I a) can’t do this race and b) can’t strive to reach that goal next time. I’m very human so things like this will happen.

The financial support for this race has been overwhelming, and I know I will raise over $700 when the dust settles. Friends have asked me where they should be so they can catch a glimpse of me (this run is part of a much larger run and about 30,000 people are expected to be running over the weekend so catching a glimpse of me, despite my flashy CDA singlet, will probably be impossible) but I’m excited at the thought of having family and friends there. Unfortunately my mom won’t be at the race but I know she’ll be thinking of me all through it. We had an emotional interlude last night: I was showing her the package I had picked up, including the chip that I have to attach to my shoelace, my bib number, teal tshirt and my funky coloured singlet and as I’m reaching into my bag of tricks to pull out more things, I look up to see that she’s crying and through her tears she’s saying “Thank you.”

(My mom and I seem to have this thing that if one of us is crying about something related to the other person, we don’t cry: the non-crier turns into the comforter. If, however, we’re watching an emotional segment on tv, we can both bawl.)

Over the past few months, anytime my mom has seen me lacing up for a run, or coming back panting from one, she’s always thanked me. She knows that exerting myself isn’t something I do with much joy in my heart and she’s touched that for her, I would. At one of the monthly meetings I attended, one of the women running a marathon said that her brother and another relative who had and have diabetes are the people who will be propelling her legs during the race. I haven’t spent a lot of time reflecting on why I picked this race, and who I’m running for, and perhaps that’s why I haven’t reached my running goals. I would push myself on some run/walks by saying “no pain, no gain”, but maybe I didn’t push myself as far as I could have if I had told myself to remember why I’m running this run, remember that I’m running to raise money for a cause that will hopefully give people like my mom a longer life, a life lived to the fullest with fewer health complications.

I didn’t spend too much time thinking on that because when I do, I cry, and if I’m crying, I’m not sure how well I can run. As I comforted my mom in the kitchen last night, I thought about how much I love her and how happy I am to be doing something to support those who live with diabetes. I am running this race for my mom and I can’t wait to hang the medal around her neck.

Filed under: Operation 5K by jummy