This weekend, in the drizzling rain, my Bride got out and ran five kilometers. On purpose.
She had signed up for the Race For Life back in January or so, when June was just a theory, and 5k sounded like something quite simple to work up to. As the months ticked by, she mentioned to several of our friends and neighbors that she'd be running for a good cause this summer, and soon enough she was so trapped into actually running by her years of Catholic-guilt indoctrination, that there was no choice but to go and actually run this thing.
I was almost trapped by my big mouth as well. Fortunately, Race for Life is a women's-only thing. Whew.
Sunday dawned grey and drizzly, and several thousand women queued up to run at the Liverpool Aintree Racecourse, along with a dozen or so other locations across the UK.
My bride's objective was to complete the run in something approaching 35 minutes. In a moment of pre-race nervous delirium, she asked for my advice. I passed on the two pieces of wisdom that my army drill sergeants had told me, back when I was running 30+ miles a week.
1) Drink lots of water.
2) Run 'til you vomit. Vomit is just weak leaving the body.
Mandatory running is reason #37 Why I Don't Miss Army Life.
Turns out, she beat her goal, running the whole way, and actually might have run a bit faster if not for the herd of people that were on the course at times.
My Bride is a cancer survivor. This fall will mark 9 years since she was diagnosed and went through extensive surgery & treatment for thyroid cancer. And though there have been some follow-up scares and treatments, she remains healthy and determined to lead a long and happy life. And that suits the Critter and I just fine, as we're rather used to having her around by now.
I'm immensely proud of my Bride for having set her mind to the goal of doing everything in her power to beat cancer - both in her own struggle, and for others who suffer.
For that good a cause, I'm happy to go stand in the rain and cheer any time.