Roundabout this time, exactly two weeks ago, I was making my way home. I felt hollow inside and had a massive headache. My work deadlines and training schedule suddenly meant nothing; all I wanted was to be alone on a mountain top with a giant slab of chocolate.
My dad died earlier that afternoon. He was 64 years old.
Since then I have been in the middle of a whirlwind of activity – my dad’s memorial service, helping my mom make sense of all the admin that follows death, meeting those work deadlines, looking after my own family, starting my 70.3 Half Ironman training with Embark… I haven’t had the chance to mourn my dad’s passing.
So yesterday evening, after having spent all afternoon with my mom and the executor of my dad’s estate, I had to make a decision: do I pack up and go for my scheduled training run or do I stay with my mom a little longer?
I decided to stay. And I’m happy I did.
Tomorrow I’ll be doubling up my efforts with a morning run (Da Chick and I will participate in the Totalsports Ladies Race in Stellenbosch tomorrow) AND my scheduled evening swim.
From now on, every drop of sweat (and tears) that falls during my training will be dedicated to my dad, just like my friend Paul told me to do.
My dad thought I was crazy when I told him about my plans to enter the Half Ironman, so I know he’s chilling on a star out there, shaking his head and wondering where he had gone wrong to raise such a crazy daughter.
But I also know that he will understand the dedication it takes to prepare for this race. And I know he will be proud when I cross the finish line.