Race weekend!

I’m headed out to DC this weekend for the Marine Corps Marathon and 10K. Spoiler alert: I’m in the 10K. Years ago – 2011, to be exact – I ran the Marine Corps Marathon. These days? I haven’t really even trained for the 10K but I can run at least four miles still. I should be fine.

It’s been a long time since I’ve laced up for a race. In many ways, the race this weekend feels inauthentic. I haven’t trained, I’m not about to put in my best race and for others, this race is a culmination of a dream. For me? It’s my third time toeing the line on this one (one marathon and one 10K before this). But there is one special reason why I’m headed to the start line this year: I promised my sister and God that I would do the race with her and our other sister since her cancer screening came back negative. I can’t welch. It brings up too much bad juju if I welch. I’m doing this race.

Now, here’s the super pathetic part of all of this: I was really regretting my promise earlier this week. Truth is, we have five pets – one of whom is struggling right now with the family chaos. We also have the impact of about 40 trees losing their leaves in our side and back yards. I’m still recovering from a fun, but busy weekend last weekend and my husband has a half-marathon this weekend. My sense was that we were – and specifically I was – just “too busy” to do this race. Sigh. I’m even embarrassed to admit it. Thankfully, my conscience kicked in and I reminded myself that if there was ever a time for me to make time, it was now. I mean, for goodness’ sake, I’m on sabbatical.

So, in a few minutes, I need to drag out the suitcase, drop my accoutrement into it and zip it shut. I’m racing. End of story.

Still, I do feel badly for my husband. We have a joke around here when the garden is growing. To the tune of “Lucille” by Kenny Rogers, we often say, “You picked a fine time to leave me, Lucille. With five hungry cats and a crop in the field.” This time, it’s five hungry crops and the leaves in the field. It’s a lot and I fear that my husband will simply work all weekend without me here. Since he works so hard during the workweek, I’ll feel awful but no amount of persuading him can get him to let it go until I return. His point: he will relax more with it done than with it undone. Point taken. I understand.

Finally, there is a super heavy layer of fog here this morning. It’s got that spooky Halloween feel to it. The bare trees with the fog in the woods and it feels like something out of a movie. Talk about a good reason to stay inside with the doors locked! But… I’m racing. End of story.

In one sense, I am actually excited to race. There is an energy at the start of a race that is super contagious. It just feels good. And the idea that I will do something healthy for myself also feels good. Finally, the idea of celebrating my sister’s good health feels soul-satisfying in a way that words can simply not describe. In the end, that is what matters. The house and yard work will come and go. The pets are actually doing better than we give them credit for. And a quiet weekend may be just what my husband needs to settle in, settle down and get some good sleep.

Me? A few years ago, I realized just how precious good memories are to me. Borrowing a phrase from Democrat strategist James Carville, I told myself, “It’s moments, stupid.” (Carville infamously said, “It’s the economy, stupid,” when engineering Bill Clinton’s first campaign.) Today, that is still what drives me. Sometime this weekend, there will be a moment I’ll hold in my heart forever. A moment that I would not have had the chance to live if I didn’t do this one rather inconvenient thing. I spent a lifetime up until now sacrificing the chance for those moments to work. These days, I’ll sacrifice work for that moment. Honestly? That’s what my whole life is about.

Now, I just can forget to pack my sneakers… .