The morning I was supposed to lead my group to their first 12 mile run - I stayed in bed. I turned my 4:45 am alarm off and let my body ride the handful of Valium I had taken the night before. And for the first time, I didn't feel guilty about missing a run - I couldn't spend over two hours with acquaintances and not lay bare that my good news had come and gone so quickly.
I waited until the afternoon when my son was sleeping, then went on my own - twelve miles: my recovery run. Six miles of crying, until I crossed the Big Bridge overlooking the bay: people waterskiing, sailboats with sunbathers, dozens of families fishing. I saw five spotted rays. The endorphins were kicking in and I felt myself healing. I turned around to go home to my beautiful son and amazing husband. They are enough for me.
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