9.11

I need to say from the beginning that I wasn't looking to be part of a memorial-type of experience when I registered for the Arlington 9/11 5K, and I admit that I signed up on a whim based on some very basic criteria:

#1 - it was only a 5K
#2 - it was close to home
#3 - it filled a void in my "events" calendar
#4 - it was at night so I thought I'd have better luck encouraging friends to sign up

Several weeks ago when I found out about the race, I didn't really spend any time thinking about the significance of the 10th anniversary. It isn't that I wasn't impacted by the terrorist attacks; I think I was just traumatized enough when it happened that I wasn't looking to reawaken stressful feelings and then have to re-experience it all over again. I was surprised when at the beginning of last week I found myself avoiding the news and being thoughtful in my detachment. I will never forget the nobility of so many amazing people that day, but I was afraid of what the images in the media might do - that some people might go right back into feeling scared, or victimized, or hateful.

As the days got closer to this anniversary, I noticed my anxiety levels rising and remarked to a few friends that I really just wanted to wake up and have it be September 12th. My husband told me that he was going to have to work over the weekend, and initially I didn't have an issue with it, but by Thursday I had asked him to plan to work as much as possible on Saturday because I really wanted to be with my family on the 11th. This was pretty out of character for me. We have a relatively small family, and it hasn't been unusual for us to abbreviate Thanksgiving, celebrate Christmas after the fact, etc. I really must sound heartless by this point in the post, but because we don't have huge traditions, it really isn't a big deal how major holidays roll out. So it was weird for me to feel an attachment to a specific day and want to hold them all close.

The race was actually on Saturday the 10th. Just before leaving I received a call from a friend in law enforcement who had received word that the race might be canceled due to suspicious activity. It wasn't, and a few quick calls to the local police departments were able to confirm that the race was still on, but there was a lingering feeling, "what are we doing going to the Pentagon right now?"

Once we parked and got closer to the race course, my denial was confronted. Brightly colored t-shirts divided the runners into various groups - FBI, Arlington Fire & Rescue, Loudon Police, Stafford Sherrifs. A huge flag was hung between two cranes above some kind of massive, dark blue tank-like police vehicle. I was caught off guard and felt bounced between so many smiling happy faces and the wistful looks on others that made me wonder what memories they were recalling - who might they have been missing? I was overwhelmed with pride for everyone there who had chosen to participate in an event that honored the past but reaffirmed the internal strength necessary for us all to move forward.

The race itself in retrospect was such a tiny part of the evening. For accountability purposes I will sum it up - The first mile was fun, the second was filled with doubt about my running and dread that I was going too slowly, and the third was difficult. Passing bagpipes playing in front of the Pentagon was distracting. It was an entirely different kind of heartache that I've never experienced while exercising. Sure I've had days when I've been angry or sad while exercising, although that hasn't happened in a while ten fifteen (ahem) years. Finally, the last quarter mile or so I was able to see the end and pick up my pace, remember that I was running for me and my own goals, and cross the line. After that it was all music, friends, pizza and beer, which incidentally is a much nicer finish-line treat than a bagel or a banana.

On Sunday, I took my kids to church while Justin finished up some files and then the four of us headed to my sister and brother-in-law's house. We had a fantastic day with their family and loved being included in their neighborhood court gathering. We went for a lovely walk in the woods, and my son swung his first baseball bat. I even managed to restrain hold him long enough for a family photo. There were dogs and kids and bicycles and toys, and people were laughing and relaxing and enjoying time together.

I may never have a Thanksgiving or Christmas tradition, but this weekend I could repeat every year. The day that I wanted to avoid because I was afraid of negative feelings, ill will, and very honestly more attacks, instead brought me a tremendous amount of joy as I embraced my friends and family and counted my blessings.

Oh and just in case you were wondering, the race results were posted online by the time I checked on Sunday evening. My time was 31:13, which is much faster than I have ever run before.