Monday, August 16, 2004

Today was Sophie's first day of kindergarten and she did AWESOME! I can't believe how well she did when Julie dropped her off at the school. While a little nervous at first, she settled right in and even waved goodbye to Julie when her teacher took the class outside and the parents were leaving. I am so proud of her. Still, it's kind of sad, she's growing up so fast. I am constantly amazed at how bright she is, but it tugs on my heart. Julie is sad, too. Sophie is now going to be in school every day for the next 13 years. That "freedom" of a certain age of childhood is slipping away from us. Still, you can’t beat hearing the tremendous level of joy and excitement that she had when she called me before and after school.

I ran for about 45 minutes this morning and I felt great. The first good Monday run I've had in a long time. Must have something to do with settling in to the Pasadena runs on Saturdays. The rest of the day, for me, was average. I find myself watching the mailbox, hoping for people to make donations. Because I've set the bar high this year, I'm really nervous about reaching that goal. What if last year was a fluke? What if I don't even make half of what I made last year? Is the fundraising a failure? It's causing my stomach to do more laps than the Olympic swimmers.

Speaking of the Summer Games, there are these ads, they run them every 2 years, that show the roles parents play in the raising of a child athlete. One in particular this year has really affected me. It’s about how parents support the dreams of their children and begins with "I will be your breath" or something like that. It continues with "I will be your strength and support" etc. I can't help but think of Jake and this marathon. I running my body into the ground this year and I would do more if I could if it would help find a cure. I would give my lungs for that boy.

Not sure how I'm gong to make it through these next few months. Every time my body wants to quit on me, whether it's my back tightening up during stressful moments, or my knee clicking a hundred times or more throughout the course of the day, I just keep thinking about Jake and the hard road that may lie ahead of him.

I'll see a doctor in January about my knee. Because if a doctor were to tell me to stop running on it, that advice wouldn't be any good until January anyway. I'm running this marathon.


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