Wednesday, October 4, 2017

When Tragedy Strikes and Fear Creeps In

One Thursday back in June, I met a friend in downtown Shreveport for drinks around 9:00 pm. I'd had a pretty long week at work and was vacillating between staying home that night and letting myself go out to socialize. The socializing won, and we ended up wandering to different locations downtown until nearly 2:00 am. When we climbed in my car and started to leave, I heard what I thought was the sound of my entire vehicle falling apart.

Turns out it was a flat tire.

Despite flat tires being a thing that happen to people every day, I lost it. Some kind person appeared out of the darkness and helped change my tire as I sobbed hysterically over what is, by most accounts, not a big deal. At a time when I was exhausted and wanted to go home and sleep, this bump in the road seemed insurmountable.

When I made it home in the middle of the night and climbed into bed, I recounted the events of the evening to Richard and cried, "Why does anyone even bother to leave their house?" (Sometimes I have a flair for the dramatic.)

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Before I fell asleep Sunday night, my brain was already looking ahead to this Sunday, October 8. That's the day I'll be running the Chicago Marathon, something I have looked forward to and trained for since early this year. Pre-race jitters are experienced by most runners, I think, especially the night before a big race, but with hopes for a PR at the front of my mind, I guess the jitters started early.

Shortly after I awoke on Monday, however, I began seeing headlines about the shooting in Las Vegas. Whenever these tragedies strike, I never know what to say. I especially don't know what to say when it keeps happening. Among posts about gun control and re-shares of an article from The Onion entitled "'No Way To Prevent This,' Says Only Nation Where This Regularly Happens," a friend of mine who frequently attends concerts posted on Facebook, "When it's at a concert, it hits a little too close to home." Among the compelling, convincing posts I read, it was this short post that I found particularly poignant. I started to think about how I would feel if an event close to me was threatened by such a terrible act before I quickly remembered that the marathon has already been impacted, just a few years ago.

In 2013, when the Boston Marathon was bombed, I was just a few months into training for the Chicago Marathon, my first marathon. Someone somewhere posted on Tumblr that if people were looking to crush spirits, marathoners were not the ones to mess with. I reblogged that post because I believed it to be true. Now that I am among the marathoners, I know it is true. So much of being a runner, especially a marathoner, requires persevering and refusing to give in to the negative influences on our thoughts. Sometimes those are internal, and sometimes they're external. No matter what, though, I never let the fear win.

As I prepare to return to Chicago, to once more run the city that made me a marathoner, I would be lying if I said I am not scared. I find myself asking the same thing I asked Richard a few months ago: why does anyone even bother to leave their house? Is this marathon worth taking two separate planes to run in an unfamiliar city where people might try to hurt me just because they know there will be a large number of people gathered together for what is supposed to be a happy, triumphant event? I know there is plenty of good in the world and even more to appreciate about life--I am often the one who points out the positive aspects of life when other people are down--but I guess everyone is discouraged sometimes.



Since I run to honor my dad, I thought about what he might say if I could call him. At this point, I would not miss this marathon, but I feel confident that my dad would also want me to keep the plans I made. He would not want me to let fear win.

Now that my pre-race jitters have shifted to fear, I pray this week for the strength and determination of a marathoner. I'll probably also throw something in there about swift feet, but most importantly, I pray for our country and our leaders as we can maybe, finally, find a way to stop these tragedies that lead us into a state of fear. Meanwhile, may we all have the unconquerable spirit of the marathoners.