A Parent’s Legacy

On Saturday I ran a half marathon. It was my fifth one, but each race is different. It had been a year and a half since my last half marathon and up until 11 weeks ago I had no plans to run another race of that distance. But than I heard about this race and what it was all about. Before I tell you the name of the race, I want to share with you the cause; because the catchy race name is not what drew me in. This inaugural race was founded by the daughter of a man who committed suicide two years ago. All money raised would go to a local organization/charity by the name of “Joe Was Just Joe,” named for another family’s son, who also committed suicide. http://joewasjustjoe.com/index.html The organization spends its money and time toward educating teenagers and young adults about suicide prevention. We’ve all had bad days, but imagine, and maybe you don’t even have to, if that day was so bad, or one of many so bad days that you believed the only thing that could make you happy again was if you were dead. 

People ask why I run and the answer is always the same. Because I can. Because, I have legs, because I am healthy, because I want to be healthier, because I feel great when it’s done, because I want to be a positive role model for my kids, and all kids, because I’m alive. Honestly, I run because I can. Because my body and mind are able to. So, on those training days I didn’t feel like running, because there are always days like that I thought about the cause of the race I was training for and I thought about how depression makes the simple task of getting out bed feel like you have a ton of bricks sitting on your chest making it impossible to get out bed. I ran because I could.

After spending two weeks on the injured list and not running, due to bruised ribs, and feeling a cold coming on the night before the race, I woke up early and went to run for all those whose lives were lost to suicide. I thought about the people who fought through depression by lacing up running shoes, or those who were running their first race or first half marathon that day and I showed up at the starting line.

I could tell you about how my knee started hurting at mile 8, or how I almost forget to pin my race number on, but instead I want to tell you about the woman I ran beside for just a short while whom I will always associate with this race. The back of her shirt said she was running in memory of her father, who likely had committed suicide. She motioned that she wanted to pass me and I said, “Go ahead you have more inner strength than I do.” She replied, “I’m not sure about that.” I smiled and said, “Your shirt tells me you do.” and she smiled back. I caught up to her just a few steps later and asked her if she minded if I asked her a question about her dad, she nodded. I asked her is she thought her dad would be proud of her or think she was crazy for running a half marathon. Now, this may sound like a rude question to you, but many people who do not run think runners are crazy, especially long distance runners. She smiled and said “he would be proud, definitely proud” of her. She then went on to share with me that he lived in La Crosse and was a runner who had run on this very same trail many times. I said, “Yes, he would be very proud then.” She said many of his nieces were running as well. My comment was, “It’s his legacy.” She smiled and her eyes lit up, I think she liked the sound of it. We went our separate ways, but she left me thinking about my own mother and how I consider her writing to be her legacy and I thought about how I hadn’t posted to this blog in a long time and for the next mile or so I thought about how I wanted to get back to writing more; for my mom. After the race was over I saw several people wearing a shirt that matched hers and they piled into a van (or SUV) with a Minnesota license plate…..they honored her dad by driving to run a race near where he lived to run on the same ground on the same trail he had run years before.

Oh and the name of the race? Mini Donut Half Marathon, named for Oly who according to his family (the organizers of the race) was at his happiest when he was making and selling mini donuts.

The Loss of Robin Williams

When Robin Williams died I mourned his loss by watching movies he was in. I excitedly introduced my kids to Mrs. Doubtfire and was internally joyful when they fell in love with her and laughed at her antics. 

I was very saddened by Robin Williams’ death, but I was not surprised. What I mean by that is that “we” never know another person’s pain or sorrow unless they choose to share them with us; and we all have pain and sorrow. Maybe it’s my counselor brain speaking or just my life experience, but I am never truly surprised when someone attempts or commits suicide, deeply saddened yes, but never surprised. 

What affected me the most about Robin Williams’ death is how he devoted his life to making other people laugh and cheering other people up during their darkest hours. All while he was deeply saddened himself, dying slowly on the inside. His comedy (and from what I have read since his death) his truly kind, thoughtful and generous inclination to help others was a mask he created, in my opinion without having known him, in an effort to make himself feel better, and I don’t mean in the way that some people who have a lot give to those who are less fortunate as a way to make them feel better for having so much. No, I mean in a way that his pain grew inside his head while his heart gave so much to so many.

I have read stories about him requiring that people who were homeless be given jobs on his job sets. I read a story about how giving he was in his home city of San Francisco. In one such story I read he would drive up to a kid run car wash and ask what school they were from, what they were raising money for and then would pull out all the money in his wallet and say he didn’t have time to get his car washed all while handing over the wad of money in his hand. On more than one occasion I have read how he has helped people who were homeless get jobs. 

While Robin Williams was making millions of us laugh (and cry) he was making a difference in so many other people’s lives in such a way that those of us who paid $5, $7, $9 or more to watch his movies couldn’t even imagine.

Also since his death people all over the internet have been posting quotes from his movies; words that he spoke in a script about suicide. I wonder if he even remembered speaking these lines among the millions he spoke in front of a camera? 

Robin Williams hung himself after years of millions of us hanging onto his every word. I hope that Mork, Mrs. Doubtfire and Patch Adams among the many others he remarkably played removed themselves from Robin Williams at the time of his death making way for eternal peace to reside inside Robin Williams the person, father, husband, and son…..na nu na nu

I think he would have wanted me to end with a laugh :)