400 Miles

This past week I've gotten lots of encouragement from well-wishers who apparently read this blog and are rooting for me to do well in this weekend's marathon. It's good to know people are behind me. Most of my training over the past 4 months has been alone. I've enjoyed the solitude as well as the mental & physical challenge of it. Who knew there were so many others with me in spirit?!

By the time I finish the Flying Pig on Sunday, I will have logged 400 miles this year. If I'd been trying to get somewhere, I could have walked to St. Louis or been just shy of Atlanta or Buffalo, NY. That's quite a ways. But this journey isn't about the destination. It's about the process. Pushing my limits. Not being afraid to fail. Refusing to give up.

The weather forecast for race day is terrible. I don't care. I'm walking no matter what. Every step of that 400 miles I have envisioned what that finish line will look like. I've imagined how it would feel to hear the cheers of folks along the race. My wife and family are plotting their strategy to meet me at various points. They may even walk with me for a mile or two. Do you think I'd miss this moment?

I'm ready. And I'm still learning from the process. After I heard another, "Good luck, Andy -- you can do it," it struck me how much encouragement can mean when you're up against impossible odds. When I get done with this race, I'm going to become a cheerleader for people who might be going it alone. I want to put fuel in their tanks or just be there to remind them failure isn't fatal. Being on that side of the ropes is bound to be more fun... and I'm convinced it's the most valuable role I could play.

I'm never going to walk a marathon again. Been there, done that. For me, it's not about goals or times or metals. It's all about the experience. Thanks for taking this journey with me. See you at the finish line!

Earthquake

I talk a lot about being on a journey, which means I'm not there yet but life is always moving. Sometimes I initiate the needed moves. Other times, the movement is out of my control -- like an earthquake shaking the ground underneath my feet. Either way, I try to keep the shifts of life in perspective because it's all part of the adventure.

Mindy and I are staring down a huge shift at the end of this month. Our youngest daughter, Chelsea, is moving out, ...and she's taking Jayda, our 9-month-old granddaughter, with her. She's found a nice apartment that gives her access to school & work along with some needed independence. We couldn't be happier -- sort of.

If I spend too much time thinking about it, I'll cry. It was hard getting used to the idea that my baby was having a baby, but I learned very quickly that being a grandpa suits me. It's different from the love I felt as a parent because now I know how quickly these days go by. Every second is precious. Every giggle or wet kiss warms my heart. I'm no better at diapers (why can't she keep still!), but I'm enjoying it more.

But there's another part of me that is cheering this day. You raise kids to be independent, responsible and courageous. Chelsea has had a steep hill to climb the past few years. Seeing her venture off on her own so quickly makes me proud. Sure, I'm worried she doesn't quite know all she's getting herself into. But isn't jumping in over their head how every young person grows? She's ready... even if I'm not.

Between the free babysitting, home-cooked meals, and a washing machine that isn't coin-operated, we'll still see them almost every day. If I need a little grandpa time, I know where I can get it. But backing off is what they need most from me right now. I love both of them enough to do just that.

Our oldest, Kristin, moved to Charleston, SC several years ago and has forged a new life for herself there. We miss her, but have adapted by extending the boundaries of our love. Our middle daughter, Lindsey, will graduate from college this spring and then marry a terrific guy a few months later. Instead of a loss, we're counting that as a gain.

There are still tears and worries -- and probably always will be. That's what you sign up for when you become a parent. All this movement feels like an earthquake. Despite being shaken at times, though, I'm eager to see what my family will become. I have loved every minute so far, but that can't compare to what our family is bound to become in the near and distant future.

Movement. It's all part of the adventure!


Flying Pig Update: The training (315 miles over 12 weeks) has really boosted my confidence. Got over the hump this weekend with a 20-mile walk. It's all downhill now as my training tapers down over the next three weeks until race day. I can do this.