A Common Thread - OR - How Running Saved My Life

After a hiatus of not blogging about running on my running-themed blog, I'm finally back at it today. Give me a break; it's been a hectic summer!

Earlier this month, I was contacted by someone from Fanatics.com. If you've never checked them out, they're pretty much the unparalleled word in sports gear. A representative from the site mentioned that they'd heard of my blog, and wanted to know if my life (or the life of my family) had been significantly impacted by sports.

Oh, has it.

If you're a faithful follower of this blog, then you know that Hillary Smith and I were married two weeks ago.

Just by sheer volume of pictures, it may be the most documented wedding in history. 

What you may not be aware of is the role that running played in our lives individually and as a couple, and how we overcome great personal struggles by lacing up our shoes and hitting the road. 

I was married for the first time in 2010. My now ex-wife moved out of our house at the end of May, 2012. The months that followed were, without a doubt, the darkest of my life. You might remember a post from earlier this month in which I recapped that season, describing the pattern of self-loathing, depression, and destructive habits I picked up during that time.

I wasn't constantly looking for answers at the bottom of a bottle, though. I was still running. 

I had been a runner for years before that fateful time, so I was already pretty serious about the sport. But when my wife moved out, running became something more than an excuse to get out of the house and a reason to eat far more calories than I needed. Running became a form of therapy for me, the only way I could express the confusion and frustration and anger in a way that was healthy. Later in 2012, I ran my first marathon and completed my first Tough Mudder, two things I never thought I'd be able to do. 

I had just emerged from something called 'The Arctic Enema', if the blue lips didn't tip it off. 

Rock and Roll Las Vegas Marathon. I look way more enthusiastic in this picture. 

Running, probably literally, saved my life. 

Fast forward almost a year. An amazing girl that I had barely known in high school was going through her own personal version of hell. She, like me, was recently divorced, but after a decade of marriage instead of less than three years. 

I'm still not sure why I messaged her that day in April of 2013. But I'm lucky I did. She and I, it turned out, each needed a listening ear for the struggles our lives had thrown at us. And, coincidently, she was preparing for a 5K race the very next day. 

Hillary had barely run before her divorce. But she, like me, had chosen to pick up the sport as a way to wear away the edges of rage and sorrow that her life had recently gained. At the very least, the activity made us feel good about ourselves; something neither of us had felt in a long time. 

We spent more time together. We started dating. And our best, most involved dates were races we ran together. 

Run the Bluegrass Half Marathon: Lexington, KY, March 2014 

Shamrock Shuffle 3K: Lexington, KY, March 2014 

Kentucky Derby Festival Mini-Marathon: Louisville, KY, April 2014 

When I decided to ask her to marry me, it only seemed fitting to ask her in our favorite running shop. I made sure it was okay with the people at John's Run/Walk Shop, and they were thrilled at the idea. One of their awesome employees was even nice enough to video it for it. It can be seen on their Facebook Page. 

We were finally married two weeks ago. The post before this one is dedicated to it, so check it out if you'd like.

Sometimes when I think about my life before the divorce, I feel as if I'm looking at a different person. He had no idea just how wrecked his life could get until it happened before his eyes. However, if I share anything with that past version of myself, it's my love of running. For a while, that thread was more like a lifeline; and, luckily, I met someone else who was on that lifeline, too. Now, it's a common thread that unites us and keeps us motivated, strong, and, most importantly, invested in each other's lives.

Oh, and I've already turned her into a Denver Broncos fan. As if I could possibly love her any more!

I'll have her in one of these this season. Just you wait. 

"Running Therapy" OR "Bolding Going"

This is my first post since the first day of February. It has been a very eventful month for me.

First and foremost, if you're a consistent follower of this blog, you've probably heard me talk about my girlfriend Hillary (you might have even checked out her blog, which I link to fairly often). She's also a runner, though she's only been at it for around a year. Despite this, she's LEAPS AND BOUNDS above where I was after my first year of running, and at this pace she'll start lapping me in a year or two.

Yes, I said a year or two. And I'm confident of this timetable because I asked her to marry me. And she said yes.

Running is one of the paramount hobbies that we share; more importantly, running was, for each of us, a way to deal with the frightening turn our lives had taken after our divorces. So, it only seemed fitting to make running part of our engagement.

I talked to the awesome people at John's Run/Walk Shop, Lexington's most amazing local store for all things running. When I told them my plan, they were elated, and said they'd be thrilled to help. So the following Saturday (February 8th), I took Hillary to the store, where she picked out a new pair of running shoes. When she went to give them a spin around the block (which John's insists everyone do before buying, to get a feel for the pair), I prepared myself with the ring.

When she came back into the store, I popped the question.

One of the dedicated John's employees captured the moment on her phone. The video is on John's Run/Walk Shop's Facebook Page

Our friend Sarah created this image for us, and I can't think of anything more fitting that she could have captioned it with.

Even if I look exhausted and/or impaired. 

So the last two weeks have been me trying to get back into the flow of a five-day school week (we've only managed that TWICE since Christmas break), and Hillary and I deciding all the things that come with planning a wedding. 

Today, I had a few hours to myself: Hillary's been off to a women's retreat at church, taking the girls with her to play in the kid's room for a few hours. I decided to try to get in some much-needed milage that the crappy winter weather has robbed me of. 

As I was getting ready, I received a text from the person I would have least expected. 

My ex-wife. 

In case you're new to the blog, my now ex-wife moved out of our house almost two years ago. It's been since August 2012 that I've even laid eyes on her, and it's taken me nearly every minute since then to get over her.

She still texts me sometimes, over small stuff. To tell me Kroger now carries my favorite brand of coffee. To send me a funny picture she found on the internet. And, surprisingly, to congratulate me on my engagement. Those texts, I don't really mind. But this particular text message, without going into too much detail, was asking for my help.

I don't know if you (dear reader) have ever had a loved one willingly distance themselves from you, but there is nothing that hurts quite as much. And watching that person go through hard times, knowing you're unable to help, is heart-wrenching.

I have a new life now. I'm about to become part of a wonderful family, with a wife and two wonderful little girls that I love more than I ever thought possible. It would be the definition of irresponsibility to help my ex when my current family needs all my resources. But how could I deny helping someone I used to care so much about?

To clear my head, I went for a run. My longest run in months.

I may have had some thinking to do. 

Even before my head was clear, I knew my responsibly was to my new family, not to her, and creating a new thread between us wouldn't be healthy for either of us. So, after my run, I sent her a respectful text in return and told her I couldn't help. 

And now, her I sit on a Sunday morning, watching Faith, the most amazing four- year-old in the world, playing My Little Pony games on her mom's laptop. I couldn't be more affirmed in my decision to dedicate myself to my awesome little family. Yeah, the road getting here was tough and painful, but all that's behind me now.  And it was well worth the trip. 

I think she has the pony fashion game memorized by now.