As I've gotten older and moved around, I've kept very few close friends; I have usually found it pretty difficult to manage a social life and family life since I'm particularly picky with my time. That all changed about three years ago when I joined a local running group on a whim.
We're a pretty unlikely threesome: a nurse-turned-SAHM-married to a cardiologist, an accounting VP, and a teacher. Needless to say, I initially felt a little intimated by my running companions. While they were whisked away on lavish vacations, I felt like I was struggling sometimes just to make ends meet. We're all from three completely different worlds.
What we found as we've shared miles and miles and pavement though is that we're actually quite a bit alike. A lot alike. We're all very family oriented but realize that taking time for ourselves is critical. We like wine, good stories, laughing, cussing, traveling, and occasionally pushing ourselves to conquer 26.2 miles. We've managed to work in two girls' weekends (with running involved) that have been absolute awesomeness all the way.
It's a ridiculous comparison, but it almost feels like one of those friends with benefits relationships you always hear about and think how impossible they must be. We get along great but can go weeks without speaking and still be okay. Our usual reserved time to run is Saturday mornings, but when schedules get hectic, we might go three or four weeks without seeing each other.
So it was completely out of the ordinary for me to text them Monday night to ask if they'd like to meet earllllyyy Tuesday morning for a quick four miles. I've been struggling with motivation and thought a committed run would help. One accepted, one declined, and I can't help but feeling there was some divine intervention there.
I was running late to meet my buddy on an already tight schedule, and I was pretty frustrated with myself since I had to be back to get ready for work. But I made it, and we bundled up and braved the wind and cold. About three minutes into the run, my friend turned serious and said that at 9 a.m. she would be due to find out the results of a needle biopsy she had to have after having a routine (her first!) mammogram; she turned 40 in October. I hadn't seen her since our November weekend in San Antonio for the Rock n' Roll marathon and had no idea.
Let me just say this chick is the picture of fitness. She's what we all want to be. And she's genuine, tough, motivated. Very private, and a little stoic. I had no idea what to say. Where are those funny get-me-through-this reserve lines when you need them?
I asked her the usual questions, but my heart just flat out hurt. What the hell?? What the hell did I just hear? I honestly wanted to cry, but I knew she would hate that.
I thought about how at some point we're all going to face that with the ones we love. At least one. The point where you "hold hands" and wait for the news-good or bad. I wished our other friend could have been there with us. I hear her response was, "You're going to be okay because we're not wearing your picture on the back of a fucking t-shirt in a race." Ahhh, that I could have mustered up such candor.
I checked my phone every 20 minutes this morning not knowing what to expect and finally figuring the worst when I hadn't heard from her by noon. Turns out her results weren't ready (can you imagine???) and she was having to wait. By five she got confirmation: NO CANCER!!
Thank you, Jesus, through and through. I love my peeps, each and every one. I really am in awe of the power of prayer. I can honestly say that my mind was convinced that she had cancer- I just knew it. But my heart kept reaching out and asking for better news; praise HIM from whom all blessings flow.
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