Day 461

My sister Lindann wrote a very moving comment to me last night. Go down and read it if you have a chance. Her words mirror what I, and I'm sure my mom and other sister Marissa, deal with almost every day. She was talking about dad's running. I'll have to give you a bit of background on this one first...

The summer before dad was diagnosed, he was experiencing all sorts of head and neck pains. He just thought that he was working out too hard and was really stiff. Well, turns out that he had a tumor in the back of his neck the size of a baseball that ate through his spinal cord. That's how we found out he had cancer.

So dad had a very successful surgery that removed the tumor and fused together vertebra in his spinal column with a titanium rod to basically keep his head on. He had limited movement and rotation from then on, and his doctor told him he wouldn't be able to do many things again, including running.

Running was dad's stability, his grounding, his peace. It was the source of all his discipline, all his strength, all his power. Running was where dad moved his mountains, dreamed his dreams, planned his life, fought his battles. Running wasn't just something that he did, it was a part of him. And when the doctor told dad he couldn't run again, he told the doctor that not running would kill him faster than the cancer would.

To find that one thing, that one core that centers you and keeps you going...that's what I've been looking for my whole life. I've never been motivated like dad. I could never stick with something like he did. I was always looking for the next big thing...maybe still am in a way. But dad, all he had to do was go for a run, and he got back to where he needed to be. He was focused, he was centered, he was ready to keep going.

Running's not my thing. I wish it was. When I was 15, I had to have surgery on both of my knees. They removed cartilage and the exterior ligament on each kneecap, and scraped down part of my patella. Too much training, too many flip turns growing up made my knees grow incorrectly. The rehab took months, and this is ultimately why I quit swimming. I could have kept on, but really, I didn't want to put in the effort to get back to where I needed to get to be great. I was a teenager. I was more focused on hanging out with my friends than training twice a day and going away to swim meets every weekend.

Dad was heartbroken. He was so upset when I made my decision that he didn't really even talk to me for months. He had my future already planned out...I was going to swim on scholarship at Notre Dame. He already had talked to the coach about me. But I was rebelious, I was stubborn and I was lazy. It was a tough time for me, because he was always my hero. And I had disappointed him. I didn't want to ever do that again.

It's easy looking back to point out your mistakes. But would I go back and do things over again? I'm not so sure. Because I know things happen for a reason. At the same time, I have a lot of regrets. Regrets about behavior, regrets about choices. But that's just a part of life. Regrets will haunt you if you don't take them, learn from them, and make a change. A lot of what I've done in my life has been me being young and stupid. I see that now. And honestly, I'm not so sure that I would be taking a hard look at things if it weren't for all the heartache I've had to deal with. It's forced me to take a look at my life and see what I'm doing. Half the time I live with such committment and strength, and the other half I live in the clouds. Sometimes, I can't decide which is better.

But for me, for now, writing has become my center. This is always something that I could do. I could write a speech, write a confession, write a love letter...that was always the easy part. But actually speaking it...that took real courage. Still need some practice saying what I feel. Maybe this is my stability, my grounding, my peace. Maybe writing is where I'll move my mountains, dream my dreams, plan my life, fight my battles. One thing I do know is that it helps me speak the truth, which is something I ever-so-bravely try to do. Even when the truth runs people off or scares them away. Why is that? I'd rather face the truth than live in ignorance, live a lie. Most importantly, it calms me down and keeps me moving. Even if it's just one more day.