Someone Else

My mom died the end of June. My sister was here while we got the bulk of her apartment cleaned out--though my house is still a disaster. She left mid-July. It was around then that I started exercising--doing Couch to 5k. My husband decided that he wanted us to participate in an 'adventure race' -- canoeing, biking, running. I'm decidedly not athletic; I never have been. I have since been in a canoe, but it had been years. I can't swim and am terrified of water, so I'm really not looking forward to that! Biking--eh. We have a tandem bike that we got years ago and we had done a decent amount of riding. Then we had kids, so haven't done that much. When we got the tandem, it was my first time on a bike since my childhood banana seat bike. I did eventually move on to a bike of my own, but not much. And running--ha!

However, I've been enjoying the 30ish minutes I'm out every few days doing this program. It's time to myself. Which made my husband laugh because I'm a solo pastor of a small church--I have a part-time secretary and a preschool rents space from us. In the summer, most of the time it's me and me alone in the office. In the school year, it's still me alone in my office but with childhood noises from the other end of the building. So it's not like I'm never alone, but running--or at this point--walking with a little running, that's just me--when all I have to worry about is me.

I've watched The Biggest Loser for most of its seasons and have always noticed the people crying--and Jillian or Bob call them out about the tears not being about the exercise.

Last night, I realized that about me. Last night, as I was jogging and struggling, I realized that I'm liking this because it's like I'm someone else. I'm not the person I was a few months ago. I'm so very sad and I miss my mom so much. I'm not the person I was when mom was alive. In every other part of my life right now (work, home with kids, etc.), things are pretty much 'back to normal.' But I'm not--I'm someone else. And doing this Couch to 5k is something someone else would do--not me. I'm going to keep at it though because I'm having to learn to be someone else--a motherless, fatherless child--in all of my life. And maybe, just maybe, this will help me do it.