I should…

I should be cleaning the house.

I should be perfecting that roasted tomatillo salsa recipe.

I should be figuring out how to cook a spaghetti squash.

I should be in the shower washing the stink off from this morning’s workout.

There are a lot of things I “should” be doing but instead I’m sitting here at my laptop reading through “stuff” but not really reading it at all. Just feeling sort of blah. The rain is heavy in these parts. More than I’m used too and again I’m in that “will I ever get used to this weather…oh look it’s changed to something else I need to prepare for” feeling.

Race day weekend is fast approaching and I have to be careful not to push myself too much this week. Means running is cut down to 1-2 miles a few times this week and bootcamp may have to take a side seat until I cross the finish line; once on Friday (5k) and again on Saturday (Marathon). I’m not nearly as freaked out this time around as I was back in May for the Bluenose so the extra time on my hands is leaving me a bit irritated and with the downpour happening outside I feel a little trapped in the apartment.

The next couple of weeks are going to be right busy and I really should be taking full advantage of the “slow down” this week. Tartan Twosome starts this Friday. Red and I are taking off Monday night and starting our road trip to Baltimore for Fitbloggin by way of Saint John and Boston. We’ll be moderating the “When you have a lot to lose” discussion on Saturday and getting our fill of “OMG OMG OMG Look it’s (insert favorite blogger/twitter name/friend you’ve only known through social media and now they’re standing in right in front of you/ I can’t believe it’s been over a year since we last saw each other at Fitbloggin11) and then it’s only a few days after we return that I’m running my third (and final) marathon for 2012.

It’s sort of a bittersweet marathon that one is.

The Valley Harvest will mark the one year anniversary of my first visit to Halifax. Life between Red and I was really just starting out even though we had been married since July. Living apart 4000 miles this trip was the first glimpse into what life was about to be like for this Pacific Northwest Native. I’d not yet met her family nor seen the inside of our apartment that she found and moved into just weeks before I came to visit. We registered for the Valley Harvest 10k and this was going to be our first official race together in Halifax with sights set on so many more…

The visit and the race were spectacular.

We were building our lives.

Separated in miles but together in love.

I flew back to the PNW ready to make the change. Plans were being arranged. Parties organized. Goodbyes prepared. I was going to have plenty of time before I would say goodbye to what was my home for forty some odd years and begin a new life here in Halifax. All was going as anticipated until that fateful call on an early November morning…

There wasn’t any time for anything except to shove what I could into a few bags, make a few calls and get a friend of mine to drive me to the airport. When I left Halifax in October I left behind the Red that I married in July. Strong, fierce and determined to kick some serious ass on her journey of life changes, weight loss and whatever else was in her crosshairs. What I found when I got off the plane was someone who was battered and bruised. Still my beautiful Red but different now.

It’s been a long recovery. Longer than I’m sure she ever even thought possible and wonders if it will ever truly be over. The fight in her is still there but it’s shrouded in pain, discomfort and frustration trying to return to her pre-accident self (physically and emotionally). Not being able to help out financially on my part adds to that long recovery process and as I literally sit around and wait for the Canadian Government to pass my file from one office to another until someone finally says “Okay Tara, now you can work” it’s starting to take it’s toll on me emotionally as well.

But with all things that bring pain, there is also the opportunity to heal and grow.

When we both stepped up to the starting line together last October we had no idea what the following year would bring. As we step up to the starting line in a few weeks we know exactly what it brought and we managed to survive pretty well. My third marathon marks a year of hard training (probably the hardest since losing the weight), a year of not only exploring the streets of my new home via running but exploring the “streets” of what’s inside of Tara and gender variance while spending hours alone hitting the pavement. For Red stepping up to the starting line of her first half marathon run/walk marks a year of fighting to return to what she once was while loving every ounce of who she is in the process. It marks a year of ups and downs with lots of “why me” and “will it ever get better”.

Most importantly it marks a year of being in love.

Not separated by 4000 miles but brought together by a split second change of plans.

It marks a year of figuring out how to bring two lives together under one roof. To run together. To take long walks on a warm afternoon together. It marks watching each other reach milestones, though while each of our milestones are very different just as powerful. It marks a year of being comforted in times of pain. Of being soothed in times of loneliness.  It marks a year of recovery and a year of uncertainty. It marks a year of being with Red through good times and bad, through sickness and in health…

Just being together.