Putting Running Shoes Back On

#TeamRavi, you have been cheering us on for years and continue to do so. We are so grateful. Ravi is not forgotten. As most of you know, I have been a distance runner since I was a pre-teen. I ran my first road race at age 13 and my first marathon at age 14. For me running, is how I best experience the world, how I play, how I recharge, and how I pray. Over the years I have used my running to raise money, first for autism advocacy and later for osteosarcoma. Running comes as naturally to me as breathing, until it didn’t.

On October 11, 2024, I ran 6 miles in the late afternoon. There was nothing particularly memorable about that run. I marked my miles on my calendar and resumed taking care of Ravi. That night, Ravi passed away and I stopped running. This is not to mean that I stopped moving. Since that fateful night, I have grief walked at least 1,000 miles. But, for some reason, I could not run. I was afraid that I would shatter into a million little pieces and would never be able to put myself together again. So, I walked. Robert walked. The dogs walked. We paced the neighborhood at all hours of the day or night. But I couldn’t bring myself to run, until this week.

I was out walking my dog, Gloria, earlier this week. She has been my long-time running partner. I was about 1.5 miles from home. Suddenly, I wondered what would happen if we just picked up the pace a little and tried a jog. As we gradually gained a bit of speed and forward momentum, my legs and my lungs began to remember what running used to feel like. By the time we were home, I was pleasantly fatigued, but not completely wasted. Today was a grey, rainy day. In the late afternoon the downpour stopped and on impulse, I grabbed Gloria’s leash, some poop bags and a handful of dog treats. I had a sudden goal in mind. I wanted to run out a mile and then back a mile, without stopping. I did not care about time or pace; I just wanted to move my legs. The first few blocks of the run were more like a shuffle. Gradually, I fell into a rhythm. We made it out a mile, and I spent about 2 minutes just walking and bringing my heartrate down. Soon, I felt like running again, so we took off for home. The mile back passed more quickly than the mile going out. I was thoroughly warmed up at that point, my legs did not feel heavy, and my cardio was pretty decent. A different feeling than I was used to was welling up inside of me. I sat with this feeling for moment, trying to recognize it. Suddenly, it hit me. I felt happy. Not elated or joyous, just happy and somewhat proud of myself. It was a good, albeit unusual feeling. I put Gloria in the house and got leashes for the other two dogs. As a gentle cooldown, I walked them 4 miles, giving them ample time to sniff to their hearts content and check the local pee mail.

Later, I look back at this run. It wasn’t elegant, it certainly was not fast. A herd of turtles probably could have beaten me with little effort. But I feel good. I am looking forward to tomorrow when I can run again. I want to slowly work my way up to 3 miles of running by the end of this week. I am toying with the idea of finding a local 5km to jump into before I run the Finish the Run 5km in September. The 20-, 30-, or 40-year-old Harriet would have scoffed at today’s effort. She would have viewed a 2-mile run as a warmup for a much longer adventure. But I don’t care. 54-year-old Harriet is content. Tomorrow is supposed to be sunny, and I want to go for another gentle run. Today represented a mental breakthrough. I was able to take my grief for a run, and it did not shatter me. Nothing bad happened. For this, I am very grateful. I feel blessed. From the time he was a baby, Ravi knew that his mom was a runner. Maybe he is surprised that I took a 7-month sabbatical. At any rate, I am back. Running is how I love to move my body, how I problem solve, and how I pray. I am grateful to have this gift back in my life. I am not fast, but between my running and my writing, this is how I can best show up for my son. Be good humans, wave at runners. Peace, Harriet, Ravi’s mom.