Today’s chemo appointment was postponed. That’s not good, not bad. It just is.
But since Stella will not be dealing with the side effects tomorrow morning, I have decided to run the full 42.2 kilometer Jerusalem Marathon.
Yeah. I know.
It’s freezing, raining, and the wind is just howling outside my window.
But you know something?
Who the hell cares that the weather is a bit unpleasant.
Stella and millions of other cancer patients world-wide deal with much worse on a daily basis. No matter how hard a run is, it is nothing. Those of us who run have decided on our own to accept this extremely short-term suffer-fest. Even if you got up in the morning and ran a marathon in the rain every day, you would still feel better than someone with cancer.
Finishing a marathon is incredibly sweet. This will be #6 for me. You cross the finish line and no matter how much your legs and lungs burn, you feel a tremendous sense of accomplishment, of relief, and of gratitude to the Almighty for enabling you to complete the run. You turn in your chip and get a finisher’s medallion draped around your neck.
It feels good. Really good.
But I know it won’t feel like even one percent of the ecstasy we will feel when we make it to that day — whenever it may come — when we hear the words “You are Cured.”
If it takes a month, a year, or maybe many years — we will never give up hope of crossing that finish line for good.
So yeah, a few thousand of us will have to run through some fairly nasty conditions tomorrow.
You know what?
Bring it on.