In 5 weeks I will "run" the Boiler Maker in Utica. This is a 15K race (9.3 miles). There will be 10,000 people running and everyone will have their own story. Here's mine:
I wasn't supposed to ever run, as a matter of fact, my parents were prepared by the doctors back in the early 70's when I was born that I may not ever walk. I have osteogenis imperfecta, otherwise known as brittle bone disease. More than a dozen femur fractures and a handful of surgeries, including the insertion of rods through the marrow part of my bones for stabilization leads me to today.
Today I ran 7 miles. Well, I mostly ran 7 miles. I eased up a bit here and there to alleviate the excruciating pain from a foot cramp. I have a slow gait that resembles my endearing childhood nickname, weeble-wobble. I grunt and even swear from time to time. I wont say my time, it's not about the time for me, it's about the finish. I'm not competitive. I am not doing this to win. I even cracked a joke to a young couple pushing a stroller that zoomed by me. I'll admit that I was a little jealous of the "perkiness" they displayed. Her ponytail swinging back and forth and no sign of sweat on either of them...whatever! At that point (4 miles in) I was soaked, panting and could hardly get the words out, "Can I have a ride?" At least they laughed.
My husband ran with me. He was a runner in high school and is the type of person (even though he's 40) that can go out and run 10 miles without training. He trots at what seems to be slow motion so I can keep up. He pushes me when I need it but at the same time he makes sure I'm not pushing myself too hard. I couldn't do it without him.
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