I made the trip down Woodward Ave towards St.Joes Hospital to visit maw maw on Friday.
She has been in the hospital now since Thursday struggling with a bowel obstruction and diverticulitis
On the way out of the hospital, I had many memories and thoughts filling my brain like a tidal wave. I didn't know if I should laugh, cry or chalk it up to raging PMS hormones.
Multiple emotions erupted, crashing into one another.
I came to the conclusion, I was grieving the loss of My Heritage.
I took this drive many times to discover my mothers fate at 18 years old. I watched my mom for almost 8 weeks fading away in a coma at this very hospital. Just a few streets away was my grandmothers church that I grew up in, All Saints Episcopal Church. And just a couple miles away is where my Aunt Mary lived, where I would see my dad and all my Mexican cousins. On the ride home I would pass N. Telegraph rd, a little ways down my grandmother lived on Apple lane, 24 Apple lane I believe it was. I little hole in the wall apartment I would visit her at almost every Monday for years.
Its now just memories.
Good memories, bad memories, all part of my existence. My make up.
These are not the emotions you want to be dealt with when you are struggling in the hormone dept.
Missing your culture, your ancestry or what you believe to be your make up.
Missing you parents, your grandparents, your cousins, your aunts, your uncles, your BLOOD.
I have my brother and my sister, and they are both AMAZING, but even they live hundreds of miles from me.
I was quickly reminded of all the people God has put in my circle. He has surrounded me with so many people to love on me.
I reminded myself it is O.K. to go "there" but not to camp "there" too long.
Find the Silver Lining.
Today, I have new routines, new friendships and I am privileged with incredible parents, my husbands.
By the time I arrived back in Clarkston, I was smiling and counting my blessings.
My heritage is what drives me. It is what quietly fuels me, often without making its presence known.
It presents itself in the form of Stubbornness, Strong will, Passion and many other character dispositions I carry.
My thoughts and my running: CollideI thought about this today when running with Lacey.
Our Goal: 12 miles @9min/mi
Our Plan: Run at my gym. Lacey designed a 4X3. 4m on the track, 4m on TM then 4m to finish on track.
Our first 4 miles on the track were easy. We chatted, smiled and kept good track of our laps.
Be both DREADED the TM. We were side by side onTM's. My original thoughts were that the TM would do all the work for us, making us maintain our 9/min/mi and turn our legs over.
As painstaking as it is running on the dreadmill I knew we could not settle into comfortable. I looked to my right and would throw up digits on my fingers indicating to change the incline on the machines.
I could see Lacey poking at the buttons. I knew SHE had to get the training in for Boston. I was hurting more than she was. But she needed this.
The dialogue in my mind was annoying. I kept hearing my heritage over talking my weakness. Lacey looked smooth as silk. I had sweat dripping off my chin and felt like my 4 miles was more like 40 miles. My inner temperature was what I wanted the outside temps to be as I could feel every pore sweating. And in my suffering, I continued to add inclines to our TM workout. I continued to fight throw the defeating conversations.
Even after the TM workout we still had 4 miles on the track to finish it up.
The only dialogue that was speaking was between my ears because even Lacey wasn't chatting. I counted our laps, our miles, counting down the time, the miles and trying to program my legs to get comfortable.
With a little more than a mile left a group of about 8 boys game out onto the track. They ran in a line doing a Indian Run. I was SPENT! But I was actually sparked back up watching the boys raise their hand indicating for the last boy in the back to speed up and run to the front.
"Lacey, lets catch up and join them!"
Lacey knew I as serious. And she was not liking this plan.
Sure enough, we caught up to them. I saw the front boy raise his hand I jumped in behind the last boy and OFF WE went racing together to the front. The boys turned their heads and started laughing.
Their coaches were just a few feet away.
Out of breath and laughing I yelled, "Sorry, I just couldn't help myself!"
The coach responded "HA, that's great! They needed the motivation."
Lacey and I finished our 12 miles. We ran our plan and ran it well. There was no OTHER option.
That's My Heritage.
I am reminded this week. I grieve my ancestry. I grieve the Murdock in me. The Gonzales in me, my family, my customs, my routines and my memories.
But its perspective. I live My Heritage out in my actions.
Stretch and roll before and after. Along with abs, Lacey rocked out the cold plunge as I fed her an apple and enjoyed the Jacuzzi!