Since then, we’ve closed on our new home, bought a new car, and spent two days’ worth of effort moving in. Because of the second car payment, our finances are not as secure as I’d like them to be, but we’re capable of making it–even if the next 6 months will be stressful.

I’ve gotten back to running to some degree. The last two blips in the graph below represent my “return” the last two weeks, after 4 weeks off. Hardly compares to my normal weeks, or even my “even” weeks before.

Weekly running totals

After running 5.5 miles this week and moving things, I realized my ribs aren’t quite healed enough for physical activity. I had been able to quit taking ibuprofen, but I’m having to take it again due to the pain. Picking up anything over 20 pounds aggravates the pain.

I’m wallowing in a fair amount of self-pity, but, right now, I’m just hoping for a normal, relatively pain-free life–outside of running. Seeing my aunt in her final days of her battle with cancer when she has a brand new granddaughter and knowing that I survived the wreck puts things in perspective, but it doesn’t make the waiting and uncertainty of healing any better.

• I could have slept in after waking up in the middle of the night.
• I could have driven the main roads instead of the winding back roads.
• I could have driven the back road route that I knew much better instead of the slightly longer back road route.
• I could have listened to the call to run 7 laps around the subdivision’s loop.
• I could have let go of the artificial call to hit a certain goal mileage every single week.
• I could have made time yesterday to stay on track with my goal mileage.

Today could have been a normal day, with no ER visit, no loss of the faithful car that I’ve had for 14 1/2 years, no facing 4-6 weeks off from running.

Instead, I woke up at 3:30am, and sat impatiently until 5am, when I went outside to leave for the gym.

At 5:35am… my car ran off the road and hit a tree.

My haste to be out the door before anyone was awake meant that my wife didn’t answer when I tried to call. Had I been injured to the point where time was crucial, I wouldn’t have survived. Four cars drove by that lonely stretch of road in the early morning between the time I quit calling my wife to dial 911 and the time when the police officer arrived on the scene.

My daughter, who normally drags her feet and daydreams during the morning routine became all business when my wife told her that they needed to get dressed quickly so that Mommy could go see Daddy who was in a wreck. She’s pretty skittish about anything that might be a threat to Daddy or any of the rest of the family. She’s just started to calm down after a year of fretting about every little lightning storm after she found out that a classmate’s dad was killed by lightning.

My son was blissfully unaware of what my crash meant. He thinks I just made my car “messy”. (Honestly, it always is.) I think of my coworker who died when his son was 2, and how my son might have a vague memory of me, but not really know me.

My wife often badgers me about time I spend doing this or that activity. Outside of things that involve money, my “other activities” are what I usually feel the most disagreement between us over. And yet, she is a conscience for me. Is it about me or the family? She keeps me as honest as one person can do for another.

While spending 40 hours per week doing “extracurricular” activities would likely always be an issue, the bigger issue that I must resolve is choosing the right path in context. Not all alternative paths have the same weight across different scenarios.

Lately, I’ve been so obsessed with not losing momentum with my running that I’ve failed to recognize context–we’re moving, my wife is working extra shifts, etc… In so doing, I have also now managed to lose momentum with my running.

I know that an accident like this morning’s could have happened at any time, for any reason. I also may be magically better in a couple of days. However, poor decision making has certainly not helped.

In the meantime, I have at least a few days to reflect a little more closely on what my priorities are. I’m not considering giving up running, or really even backing off of running, or other activities for that matter–but I do need to reconsider my willingness to knock their priority to the bottom at the appropriate times.

I don’t need to see if I can survive another wreck that makes a car look like this:

• Kentucky – 1 – KDF 2012
• New York – 1 – NYC 2011
• Tennessee – 3 – Flying Monkey 2008, 2010. Memphis 2009.
• Illinois – 1 – Chicago 2010
• Indiana – 1 – Indianapolis Monumental 2009.
• West Virginia – 1 – Hatfield McCoy 2008
• Ohio – 1 – Flying Pig 2008
• North Carolina – 1 – OBX 2007

The History

Despite finishing 9 marathons total, I’ve never finished a marathon in my home town.

My history:

• 2009 DNS – Signed up for the KDF marathon in January. Got injured in late January and ran/walked about 1/10th as much in February and March as I did in January.  Never started the race.
• 2010 DNF- My kids got a stomach virus the week before marathon week. I avoided the nastiness, but my stomach didn’t feel right the day or two before the marathon. During the marathon, I sat down on the side of the course at mile 11 with intestinal problems. After fighting to get over the last hill in Cherokee Park at mile 16, without the guts to do so, I saw a friend spectating around mile 17 and used his phone to call for pickup.
• 2011 DNR- I didn’t sign up, but I helped another runner train for his first marathon. The week before the marathon, we ran 20 miles at a pace similar to my two fastest marathons. It was like KDF was taunting me.
• 2012 – Signed up. My Garmin flew apart two weeks ago in Iroquois Park, at mile 7 of an intended 20 miler. Last Saturday, I stubbed my toe and it turned black and blue (no breakage upon X-ray, but still…)

Reality

No, I don’t really believe in the curse. I’ve taken the race for granted. I don’t take care of things like I would if I were more heavily invested in another race:

• I know too many people near the course who I can hang out with if I quit.
• I push things too hard, because all I have to risk is the registration fee…  not vacation time, travel fare, reservations.
• *or* I don’t take training seriously because I haven’t spent $100s or $1000s.
• The race will always be there next year.
• There is no difficulty getting registered for the race.

The problem is, none of these factors have changed, and now I’m obsessing over a toe. Obviously, the only remedy for this “curse” is finishing.

Now, you can pay for the opportunity to be notified. No free notification mentioned (which is very helpful in letting a family member know if you need help, etc…)  At the 10-, 15-, 25- and 30-km markers, that means mini marathon participants (the overwhelming majority of participants) only get 2 updates.  Marathoners, of course, would get 4 updates. That’s $1 or $2 per text…  And from the wording of the below ad, that’s $3.99 per notification method/person being notified… probably should post those updates to Facebook for the most bang for your buck.