Have you ever experienced the person you love really, really take steps towards becoming their very best self? It's AMAZING. I could go on and on about this, but for the sake of not embarrassing Hank and keeping this post to the point, I'll just say that over the past year Hank has gotten super into fitness. And it's not like he was ever some couch potato- he's always skateboarded, and played basketball and soccer growing up- but over the past few years he hasn't always been the picture of health outside of some stints of running. This past year though, a fire was lit under him and he's completely changed his life through CrossFit and training on his own. It's been so inspiring to see his transformation. And I'm not even talking about the physical aspect; mentally and emotionally he's just become this insanely positive person (who was already a super positive person, so imagine that) who inspires me daily.
So when he decided to run the 10K (6.2 miles) at the Whiskey Row Marathon this year, it was such an exciting thing. He never imagined himself doing something like this, and more so, enjoying it! He finished well under his goal and right after finishing said "I should have done the half." And later that evening decided on his next race, a half-marathon taking place in a couple of months.
But the second part of this post's title? Let me fill you in...
So the three of us woke up extra early on Saturday morning and got ready for the day. Hank ate his protein bar, I got Henry fed and clothed, and we headed out the door by 6:45am. The 10K started at 7:30am so we arrived downtown with plenty of time for Hank to get warmed up and ready to run. I had Henry in his stroller, so we walked around for a bit, admiring all the awesome neon running gear and visiting some of the booths, and eventually got a spot by the start so we could watch Hank take off.
Henry was in good spirits, cheering and laughing as the count down began. "3, 2, 1...GO!" And they were off.
Being the over-planning person I am, I had already staked out our spot at the finish line and decided my game plan. Rather than standing and waiting for 45 minutes for Hank to finish up, I planned to pull one of the park benches right over to the edge of the runner's path and got a prime spot to watch the participants come in, where I would snap an amazing photo of Hank running by in his FIRST RACE EVER! Yeah!
So I did just that. I got the bench, ended up sharing it with two of the sweetest little old ladies whose husbands were in the 90s and have been running (now walking) the 10K for over 20 years, and kept Henry occupied with a juicy apple.
I was so excited for Hank to come through that finish line, and once the 40-minute mark hit I began obsessively watching around the corner for his red shirt and orange sunglasses. My camera was set to on, my iPhone video was ready to go; I was prepared. Henry had moved onto wanting a Larabar at this point so I reached down to grab it, and as I opened it and gave it to him, I felt a hand on my shoulder.
Guess who it was?
Ugh! Somehow in that one moment of me looking down I had missed him coming through the finish line. I immediately burst into tears and skipped over the cute kinda-crying stage and went into the full-on ugly cry. I HAD MISSED IT! And I know it might not be a big deal for some, but it was to me, and especially to my over-emotional pregnant self. It was beyond just snapping a photo- I had sat there for close to an hour watching all of these people finish, watch all of them accomplish this great thing, and I wanted to watch MY person accomplish his. It was his big moment. And I missed it.
Maybe 30-seconds into my big cry I realized that my husband, who had just achieved this great personal goal, was comforting ME, and I hastily stopped the waterworks. Isn't that the worst, when you realize you're making something that is so, so not about you, about you? And that's what I was doing. Luckily though it took me a second but I got it together and after begging him to pretend to cross the finish line again (he wouldn't! haha) we snapped some photos of him BY the finish line and celebrated and cheered and I cried some more...but a happy cry this time. Definitely happy.