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<\/figure>\n\n\n\nAfter about a month, I got sick and tired of feeling hopeless and decided to take back a small piece of my pre-loss life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I signed up for my first post-loss 5K run but wondered if I\u2019d made the right decision. I worried that people would think I was \u2018over\u2019 my loss. That somehow my rejoining the land of the living meant I was \u2018okay.\u2019 I wasn\u2019t. I felt I\u2019d even be judged for being \u2018strong\u2019 enough to exist outside my grief.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Despite my apprehensions, I laced up my sneakers and hit the pavement. It\u2019s true what they say: You cannot outrun grief. You literally cannot. There were days when I cried as I ran. Times my loss felt so overwhelming that I wanted to stop at the midway point and have an emotional breakdown. But I was determined to push through.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I couldn\u2019t control my grief, but I could control my body. I decided when and how long I ran. That control felt good and brought me some semblance of normalcy at a time when my life was anything but. I was 32 years old with a dead husband. I wanted to\u2026needed to\u2026feel in control.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In September 2012, six months after my husband\u2019s passing, I signed up for a half-marathon. The race challenged me mentally, physically and emotionally. About 3 miles in, I reflected on the beauty of the day and how I wished my husband could have been here as my running partner, helping me maintain my pace. At the halfway point, my body started to feel aches that come with pushing your body beyond its normal limits. My mind was in worse shape. I remember my thoughts switched from \u2018Oh, it\u2019d be so nice if he were here\u2019<\/em> to \u2018Why isn\u2019t he here?\u2019<\/em> It was hard to make peace with the fact he wasn\u2019t one of the adoring spouses in the crowd waving a \u2018Go Kerry\u2019 banner.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I willed myself not to cry, to not fall apart. Instead, I kept running. I jogged through the uncertainties of what my life would look like going forward. I ran through the unknowns that twirled in my head. I ran because I had to. I couldn\u2019t control my husband dying unexpectedly, but I could control this ending. I deepened my resolve to complete the race.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Around mile 10, my once steady jog slowed to a power walk. I wondered if I\u2019d taken this control thing too seriously and perhaps I\u2019d be better off curled up, crying in bed. I won\u2019t lie. There were times I thought about calling a cab and ending my misery; times I considered patting myself on the back, saying \u2018good try\u2019 and calling it a wrap.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alone with my thoughts, the half-marathon reminded me of my grief. My legs were so sore I wondered if I was even moving. That\u2019s how grief feels. Some days you wonder if there is even any healing going on. You hurt today just as much as you did yesterday. Where\u2019s the progress?<\/p>\n\n\n\n And somewhere, wrapped in my thoughts, I saw mile marker 12. I was 1.1 miles from the finish line. The most difficult part of my journey was behind me. Much like my grief, the darkest, rawest stages had already happened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When I crossed the finish line that day, I cried for me, I cried for my husband, I cried for our past and the future of which we were robbed. It didn\u2019t matter that I finished fourth from last, the joy was in the fact that I\u2019d finished. I had persevered. I\u2019d gained the ultimate control.<\/p>\n\n\n\n While I understand that my grief will forever be a part of my life, I realize that it\u2019s okay to push through the pain on the days it feels like grief will all but consume me. Most importantly, I learned it was okay to keep living and create new adventures, even after a devastating loss.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/lwm-a2.azureedge.net\/uploads\/2018\/10\/Kerry-Phillips-Run-4_edit-900x1176.jpg\")
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