“What a difference a day makes.”
“Expect the unexpected.”
“Everything happens for a reason.”
…All trite sayings we hear often, especially when living life’s struggles.
Although dealing with my increased Epilepsy has made me a bit more sentimental, sensitive and likely to pause in appreciation when I see sayings written on a mug or printed on some wall décor in a store, I only believe a handful. And though you could argue for all three above, I feel the 2nd statement holds true.
Over the past three years (of my 17 with Epilepsy), and more specifically these past two months, life has definitely changed for me; my family and I’ve made adjustments, fallen down and gotten up, and I’ve seen sides of myself unknown to me before. Facets I was unaware I possessed- depression, frustration, anger… but amongst those mood swings are points of determination, hope, and progress.
That brings me back to “expect the unexpected.” I don’t know if you read my previous post, but that Friday night was a doozy for me. I hit a low from which I didn’t know where to reach the high.
So a day later, I ran a half marathon.
No, I didn’t just hop in with a bunch of other crazy people. lol This was the marathon I’d registered for months and months ago; the one I’d planned on running to raise Epilepsy Awareness and much-needed funds for Epilepsy research. Unfortunately, Epilepsy had a different plan for me and derailed my training with seizures and meds. Soooo, my goal was dashed. I watched my running progress fall by the wayside and felt myself actually losing physical strength. So disheartening now that I was used to running 5 days a week. Going from 0 to 100 and then back to 0 again. Ugh. The purpose I’d found dissipated and I started sinking.
That’s when I hit the bottom Friday night.
I woke Saturday morning discouraged but more than anything else, I think, pissed. Super Bowl weekend- the weekend I was supposed to accomplish something great and honor those struggling with the debilitating- was here. The marathon was here. Well, almost- tomorrow (Sunday to be exact). So I thought about it, looked at my husband and said- “Screw it. Let’s at least do the half.” I was positive 26.2 miles was out of the question at this point, but why not see if I could do the 13.1? Worse scenario- I’d stop, watch from the sidelines and go home just as discouraged as I was before… We went to registration, changed our race to the half and the more immersed I was in the excitement of those around me, the more I resolved to pull a Nike and “just do it.” :)
And so we did.
The three of us- my husband beside me and our little man in the stroller (singing “Happy New Year!” to everyone we passed lol). We did it. Together. I crossed the finish line with excruciating pain in my knees but I’d known it wouldn’t be easy. I hadn’t even laced up a shoe for a little over 2 months before that morning. And having my two boys right next to me the whole time… One running for his wife, one cheering for his Mommy. And me, proving my strength despite struggle, to myself. For myself.
“Expect the unexpected.”
I guess I learned, we often expect the unexpected to happen to us or go through life just dealing with what’s thrown at us. That morning I thought, maybe it’s time my Epilepsy should expect the same.
And after Friday night, I felt the need to send a nice big eff you. ;)