Everything happens for a reason.  I have always, and still do, believe that.  But that doesn’t mean I always have to like it.

This weekend, I was in a funk.  As I finished my run this morning, a whole bunch of my friends were all gathered in my favorite park to run a 15k trail race that I was registered for but unable to compete in.  Ya see, the group holding this race, had to move the date from Saturday to Sunday, but I work on Sundays, and with the start time not being until 10am, there was just no way to swing it.

At first, I was in denial about the situation.  Then, I fought desperately to try and work out the details…if I run it fast enough, and then don’t stop at the finish line but go straight to my car and drive exactly 7-10 mph over the speed limit, I might get to work only a few minutes late.  And I will have to irritate my co-workers by being stinky Lindsey all day.  Hmmm…but…if all does not go well, which is entirely possible given the 5 inches of snow we just got, chances are I’ll be more like an hour late to work. And still no shower.  Back to denial.   And then on to pouting.  And then, finally, sucking it up and accepting the bitter truth of the anti-climactic end to this particular race.  Done.  Sigh…

That sounds oddly like the stages of grieving, doesn’t it?

Ok, so obviously, in the grand scheme of things, not being able to run this race was not my biggest loss in life.  But the reality is I was looking forward to it, so I’m disappointed that it didn’t work out.  Sometimes these things happen, and it’s ok to be disappointed, and to be a little pissed, and to pout if I need to.  Like I said, it’s not the end of the world.  And it’s really a matter of perspective.  But the fact remains, I wanted to do something and I didn’t get to and that sucks a little because now I’m left with this feeling of an itch that needs to be scratched.  I Want To RACE.  I was getting all amped up to go throw down on this snowy trail, so what am I supposed to do with all the energy and adrenaline that’s been building up for weeks?

Now what?  Well, I text Nicole and Farrell to go for a 15 mile training run.  That’s what.

I met the girls early this morning at Forest Park, one of the few places that was plowed, so we could log some long miles. Our topics of conversation ranged everything from how as runners we are kinda gross and sometimes have no concept of what is socially acceptable; to why that woman was running with a very large, albeit fashionable, scarf which had to have been very sweaty and itchy; to analysis of the Gym Class Heroes song The Fighter being a great running song.  But the really fun part was talking about Farrell’s wedding, cause Nicole and I are both in it.  Oh, yeeeah… can we say bachelorette party roadtrip???  Actually, I love that Farrell is getting married to Ryan.  My first memory of Ryan is that he calls Linds his angel, which I find completely adorable.  And he proposed to her on HIS birthday.  Seriously?!  Who does that?! He’s definitely a keeper.  And Farrell is a friend that has stood by me at some pretty crazy times in life.  She was one of the first people to see me the day I filed for divorce and she will be quick to tell you I was freaking out.  I have learned a lot about love through both having Farrell as my friend, and through watching her relationship with Ryan.  This is a couple who gives me hope.   I definitely wouldn’t say I’m thinking of getting married again anytime soon, or even at all.  I’m not really ready to think about any of that just yet.  I don’t know what’s in my future.  Right now, I’m pretty happy just being Lindsey. But Ryan and Farrell make me believe that maybe, just maybe, it’s possible, that love like that really exists.

So, what’s the silver lining of a race I had to bail on today?  Well, I didn’t incur any kind of injury on those icy trails that might have dashed my hopes of Vancouver.  And I got to hang out with two of the coolest, most badass chicks I know.   And I was reminded once again to hang on to hope.  Oh, and I made it to work on time, so I get to keep my job.  That’s a plus.

Anyway, now the big question is…who’s up for running the St. Patty’s Day race with me?

The awesome group of running peeps I was supposed to race with today.