THAT DAY

One year ago, everything changed. My dad had a heart attack. My dad, who has come to almost all my sporting events and cheers me on, who takes me to see all the politicians that come talk, who introduced me to the Tour de France, who loves to play Scrabble. Who was the subject of my greatest thanks that year, because my dad was okay.

It was to be the first day back from Thanksgiving break. Early that morning, the phone rang. It kept ringing and ringing. My driver's ed teacher told us about two weeks later that early morning phone calls are hardly ever good, because good news can always wait until morning. He was partly true.

I can still remember the phone ringing over and over again. The answering machine clicking on, and my mom's voice telling one of us girls to pick up the phone. I answered it half asleep. And then my mom told me that she had taken my dad to the hospital. He was having chest pains but he didn't want to wake me up because he thought it wasn't that big of deal. But my mom told me the sweetest words I could hear after she told me where they were at. He was okay. He was going to be okay.

I stayed up after that, waiting for the phone to ring again, and for my sisters to wake up. I remember the look on my youngest sister's face when I told her that dad was in the hospital, that he was okay, but we didn't have to go to school. That was one of that hardest things I have had to do. To tell her words that I didn't even want to hear. But he was okay. And that's what mattered.

We were allowed to visit him later on, and I don't think I have ever been so glad to see my dad. He looked weak and sick and okay. He had watched what he ate, he exercised- went on bike rides and went running with me, he did what his doctor had told him. He did so much right, and what scares me is what went wrong. There are so many fat, unhealthy, junk food eating guys out there and they weren't the ones who this happened to. They are the ones who it is supposed to happen to. But my dad has done even more since that day. He goes walking all the time and lifts weights. And he's still there at all my meets.

On that day, a year ago, I went for about a six mile run. I had been running at most like four until that day. But then I needed to run. I needed to get out of the house, and run long and deal with everything. My grandparents had arrived so I didn't need to act like the grownup anymore. I could act like the kid that I felt like through the whole experience. So I ran. I ran because it was my therapy, I could get out my adrenaline, my fear. I could be myself and didn't have to pretend when I ran. Running that day, that week, became something I wanted to do, something I had to do.

I'm not sure how my mom dealt with everything, because I was so terrified myself, and I knew from the beginning that he was okay. The way she acted has made her an even stronger woman in my opinion. One of the really hard things that week was actually going to school and sitting in class and listening to everyone's conversations. I couldn't make it matter to me, what really mattered was my family. And a year from that scary day, the same thing matters. My family matters.

MY LAST FIRST DAY

I start missing the Tour de France about two weeks before it ends. Because just the thought of it ending and knowing it will end, is almost too much for me. Saying goodbye to the race is really hard. As Andy Schleck said, everything you work for all year is over in three weeks. And while it's great that it's over, it's also sad for the same reason. He was stating most of my thoughts about the end of the Tour de France. But he was also stating my feelings about high school.

My last first day of school was today. I received my last high school I.D. It was my last time experiencing the first day excitement when you see your friends again after a summer away. It was the last time my parents took my picture on the first day. My last time receiving the first day of school hugs. My last time returning to high school on the first day. My last time meeting my new teachers in high school. My last first after school cross country practice. My last time walking through the halls on the first day. One of the first times I truly realized that this is it. This is my last year in high school. It really is now or never. And yes, it is exciting. But it's also sad. Because of all the things that mean so much to me, that I will have to say goodbye to. All the things that I already miss. Because almost everything will change.

THE GREAT FLOOD OF 2008

Although it might seem that way, I have not abandoned my blog, but I have been very busy. School is out so I'll have a little more time to write between my working and running. And now I would like to talk about the six days in June that changed my city and is the reason for the race that I ran today.

On June 11, 2008, I went to cross country practice in the morning. The road I usually took to get to school was closed because of some flooding issues so I had to take a little detour. By the time we had come back, the water had already come over one of the roads on our detour. Later that day, for my parent's 20th wedding anniversary, our family drove downtown to look at the floodwater. They were higher than I had seen before but it was only causing some minor damage and didn't seem like that big of deal. And then the rain came.

A day later, on June 12, I basically sat on the couch and watched the local news channel as they covered the flooding. The continuous coverage showed places that I had seen just the day before, covered with water. We had laughed as places seemingly far from the water were sandbagging as we had watched, but the level of the water meant that the sandbags were useless. It was unbelievable seeing city landmarks being covered with water. And the rain just went on.

On June 13, 2008, the river crested at 31.2 ft., more than 11 ft. over the previous record. Events like this have been on the news but you don't really grasp it until you are there. Until it's places that you know that are being affected. It's weird knowing that a picture of my city was on the cover of the New York Times, my teammate's dad was on CNN, and the National Guard was just down the street. When my family was looking at the flood, in an area where you usually can't see the river, I actually stood next to their jeeps. I saw the police rescue someone from the river. I watched a houseboat float downstream. This was my hometown, where I was born and where I grew up. And it was being devastated by a flood.

On top of a hill, the flooding did not directly affect my family. But in a way, it did. I filled sandbags with my mom, and helped out with the Salvation Army and Red Cross. I delivered meals in one of the Salvation Army trucks to flood victims and volunteers in the flood zones. Because of this, I experienced what it was like when the waters had left. The smell, the debris, the destroyed buildings, and all the people. I traveled down streets that had stacks of belongings all along the curb. Because of water restrictions, we used paper plates and didn't take showers. Everyone was trying to do their part to help our city recover. One of the Salvation Army volunteer coordinators from the South told us that she hadn't seen so many volunteers from a community every before and that she was there at Hurricane Katrina. Even as the national news left, along with the water, we were recovering. We were doing it together. We can't do it on our own though, we need a lot of help. But we are working on it. And so, on the anniversary of the flood, I ran a race. The flood run: race to rebuild, race to recover, race to remember. It took us throughout the flood zones, through seven miles of destruction. It has been a year but it some places, it doesn't look that way. The race report will be written later but I would like to mention that it was cloudy and raining. As I ran past this building, at the beginning of the race, the skies looked the same as they had been a year ago. The bridges were clear though, as over 1000 participants ran because of the flood.

EG

Happy Birthday EG :)

Make sure to check out your blog. It looks like it's been fancified.

ACTS OF KINDNESS

My dad is home from the hospital now and doing much better. He got home Wednesday and has improved a lot. He walks around more and lays on the couch less. He still can't do any lifting but I do it for him. He's also in a better mood.

One thing that has really stood out for me in this whole experience is what people have done. There have been lots of phone calls, emails, and cards from my family, coworkers, neighbors, friends, etc. My family sent a fruit basket which is really yummy. My mom's coworkers have volunteered to make food for us, though we didn't need any. My mom's boss and his family sent flowers, well more of a flower arrangement. It's very Christmasy.

My favorite act of kindness would have to be from my dad's coworkers. I had just gotten home from school and my run and was doing my homework when the doorbell rang. Two or three of my dad's coworkers were at the door in full snow gear. My mom was on her way out and was surprised to see them. They said they were here because they heard we needed new windshield wipers. Apparently the ones on my dad's car weren't working and my mom had been complaining about it for awhile. They installed the new ones and talked to my dad for awhile. They made sure we didn't need any more help like with shoveling snow, meals, or anything like that. It was incredibly sweet to think that people are willing to do this kind of stuff. I guess I didn't realize that people are that kind. I want to thank everyone who has done things for us or sent us notes. It has helped me realize that humans can be good people afterall.

On a sidenote, Happy Birthday Alberto Contador. It's already the next day where you are but good luck with your races this year. I hope you dominate in the Tour and make Lance work for you. Have fun at training camp and have a good birthday.

MONDAY

A few days ago I was full of topics to blog about. How I had lost some of my motivation to run, how I love running in snow, Thanksgiving, my grandparents who still live in the Dark Ages and don't have a computer. I could have blogged for at least a week on the topics I had thought up. Now, however, I am at loss for words. It also doesn't help that I'm barely awake since I haven't had much sleep. But, I must blog so I'll have to try.

My dad is coming home from the hospital today. And now you might be wondering since when was he in the hospital since my last blog post was over a week ago. I planned to write one of Monday but that day didn't exactly turn out as I expected.

I had went to bed Sunday night thinking about the first day back from Thanksgiving break and kicking myself for not doing the homework that was due later that week. I was started a new class so I was memorizing a new locker schedule and room number.

At 3:50 Monday morning I woke up to the phone ringing. It kept ringing and ringing, and I couldn't figure out why my parents weren't answering the phone since I thought it was one of my dad's coworkers asking him to save the University once again. Once I heard my mom's voice on the answering machine, I got up quick. The phone had finally stopped ringing but I listened to one of the messages to make sure it was actually my mom. Then it hit me that my parents weren't in their room and lights were on all over the house. Since I was half asleep this really didn't worry me until I was calling my mom back. When she answered the phone my dad switched from worrying about my classes to worrying about my dad.

My mom told me she had taken my dad to the hospital because his chest was feeling tight but that he was okay and she'd call me back. I sat on my parents bed, suddenly wide awake, thinking that my dad had a heart attack as I stared at the phone. I didn't think about when this happened or why it happened to him and not some lazy couch potato. All I was thinking was "please let my dad be okay".

My mom called me back minutes later and told me that some of my dad's arteries had been blocked and he had stents put in them and lot's of other medical information that thanks to my halfway attention in biology, I understood. But, all I cared about was knowing my dad was okay.

After a phone call like that, you don't go back to sleep. My body was now so full of adrenaline that I couldn't sleep even if I had wanted to. I finished a book I had been reading while waiting for the phone to ring again. It rang several times after that, my mom reassuring me and giving me more information while sounding calmer as time went on. While waiting for my sisters to wake up I watched cartoons on Disney Channel since I no longer know any of the channels of my T.V. (Our cable or something was changed so the channel numbers all have changed. I don't know any of the channels now except the Game Show Network even though we have a sheet telling us the channels). There's nothing on in the morning anyways except early morning talk shows, reruns, and cartoons. Spongebob wasn't even on. So I watched some strange Disney show that involved children helping dinosoars made out of instruments.

One of the hardest parts the morning however was telling my sisters. Although I had hoped they would wake up earlier because I hated sitting alone, I also wanted them to sleep up to delay my message. How do you tell your younger sisters that your dad is in the hospital? One just kept walking into the bathroom probably to straighten her hair while making sure we didn't have to go to school. My youngest sister came out of her room excited that her favorite show was on and thinking we had a school delay. I can still see her face in my mind when I told her. Her face crumpled up. It actually crumpled up before she started crying. Nothing I said could comfort her although Handy Manny seemed to help. A bad ripoff of the Wiggles along with Warehouse Mouse telling us to brush our teeth everyday also made us feel better.

My grandparents came to our house later that day and I was allowed to go on a mind relieving run with no motivation needed. Running is some of the best therapy around even if I had to trespass through fields to get a good run in. My mom came home and left again, and eventually took us up to the hospital to see him. I have never seemed my dad look so exhausted but he was okay and that's all the matters. I saw some pictures of his heart and the blocked arteries which was cool and actually let me use more of my biology knowledge (I still can't figure out how to use chemistry). He's supposed to come home sometime today though, so I'm really excited.

This whole ordeal has seemed like a bad nightmare that won't let you wake up. On Monday I was pretending to myself that none of this happened in order to make it through the day. But it did happen although it didn't seem like it would. My posts this week will probably not pertain to running (I don't need motivation anymore) or cycling at all (although I see Lance is deciding to ride in the Tour). My posts will be about my dad and what happened because I no longer have anything else to talk about. You don't expect these things to happen to you and your family. They shouldn't happen to anybody. But it happened and my dad is going to be okay. He is coming home today and nothing could make me happier.