My first house had a
pool in the backyard and my dad had me in the water when I was only 8 or 9 months
old, dunking me and teaching me to swim. My first birthday involved a white
cake with red sprinkles, a messy face, my best friend Laura, and my family. I
had a bald head until I was almost three and my mom had to tape bows to my head
to get them to stay. Simpler times for sure.
I ran a 5K (3.1 miles) this weekend in Clemson, SC with my
wonderful in-laws. I have done a lot of training runs in Clemson, but this
course was brutal, even for 3 miles. Lots of hills, but a beautiful day and for
a very special cause – Helen’s Hugs (www.helenshugs.org).
This nonprofit organization is in memory of a young woman who was tragically killed
in a car accident in 2006. Helen was an accomplished
equestrian as well as a nursing student at Greenville Technical College. The
race/walk generated funds to provide opportunities for special children to
participate in therapeutic equestrian programs. It feels so good to participate
and be part of something that has meaning. Running and living with purpose is
so important to me and I am blessed to have had so many loving and supportive
family members, friends, and even strangers in my corner who drive me
to want to do better and live stronger.
There is nothing more important in my life than my
relationships. They are truly my greatest blessing. I am unable to write about
my past or present without my relationships coming into the narrative. Sometimes
it’s about the moments along the way – the pajama care package that my college friends
sent me in the hospital, the tabloid magazines the my brother makes sure I have,
the bosses and co-workers that were always so understanding and supportive, the
Thanksgiving dinner that was sent to Bob, my parents and I after a tough
hospital stay, my Hubbard siblings who showed me running and made me believe I
could do it too, the surprise visits, my co-worker and friend who donated blood
for me before my first surgery, my brother who worked hard to tell me a new
joke before every procedure, the nurses who encouraged me to keep walking the
halls and the doctors who laughed at my jokes, the care I received at home from
the mothers in my life, and my daughter telling me “You go running mommy, way
to go mommy.”
My core relationship is my family - my husband and my
daughter. Talk about blessings. I will talk about them both a lot more in
future blogs, but this was the best place to introduce my home team. It is like
I can hear God saying to me, “You’re going to have to go through all of this,
but I am going to give you Bob and Megan as my gift.” Bob has been there
for me during my highest highs and my very lowest lows. He is really the only
person that knows the whole story as he lived it right alongside me. There is
not a moment he has not been there. We are celebrating our 16th
wedding anniversary in December and I could not be more proud of who we are as
a couple and the battles we have fought together. He was the one that had to do
all the worrying and all the waiting. I am forever indebted to him and so very
proud to be his wife. Although she has
only been part of our lives for three years next month, we would not be us
without our Megan. We adopted Megan and were there with my dad and Bob’s
parents when she was born in a small hospital outside Salt Lake City. We cannot have any regrets because if we changed anything about our journey, we would not
have her, our dream come true. Her spirit and loving heart keep me grounded
every day and always lets me know what is most important. My journey - both
past and present, and in and out of my running shoes - is only possible because
of Bob and Megan and is for Bob and Megan.
It is easy to say that I would not be here without my mom
and dad. But, I believe from the bottom of my
heart that I was given the very best parents.
They were always there and held me accountable while giving me the space
and trust to be my own person. They have always believed in me, especially when
I did not. They gave me every opportunity in whatever I wanted to do in this
world. They always provided me with the comfort that let me know that
everything would eventually be ok. Each
of their support came in its own unique way.
First of all, I look just like my dad. We have the same eyes
and same hands. My dad not only taught me how to swim, but he instilled in me my
love of writing and I am sure many would say a heavy influence on my political
views. When my medical problems started, there was no way my dad was going to
let me get down about it. He faced his own battle with Crohn’s Disease starting
as a teenager and never allowed me to believe I was nothing but a fighter. He
wore out the seat in many hospital chairs, although I had to send him out for a
walk many times because he gets so restless. My dad is not afraid to jump in
the deep end and lives his life fighting the good fight. Although many know him
as a funny man, my dad has the heart of a lion and would do anything for his
family. He is one of my very best friends and always has been.
And to my dedication . . . the story of my mom and our
relationship goes to the core of who I am as woman, a wife, a mother, and a
friend. There is no woman in my life that has had a bigger influence on me. My
mom was always there. Even when I did not think I wanted her to be, she got on a plane and showed
up at the hospital anyway. She was there every day during the five weeks I
spent in the hospital for surgery and complications. She and Bob went to the
mall and bought me my first iPod, a pink one, during that visit, and Bob went
home and downloaded all my favorite music. She brought me Oreos and Ben and
Jerry’s Chocolate Chunk. She was also the one that had the nurse in a corner in
the hallway when my epidural came out and the nurse did not believe that I was
in pain. She was very much a Mama bear. She was there with her hand, her
conversation, her snuggles, her treats, and her gumption.
I dedicate this blog to my mom, Joan Boulineaux Nabors, who
passed away on July 28, 2009 from a brave and courageous battle to beat
Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS). Losing her is by far the greatest
challenge of my life so far. My mom is my hero and I miss her terribly every
day. I live and run for her and want to share my story and journey with you in
honor of her. My mom and I still had more words to say, more daily phone calls
to share, more sappy movies to cry over, more music to blast in the car, more
Starbucks iced tea lemonades to drink. Can I just say how much she would have
loved the show Parenthood? I did not get to share motherhood with her. However,
the more I get up every day and live my life, I feel her presence more and
more. Although I will always want more, I feel her nudging me along and sense
what she would encourage me to do.
She would be proud of me. I run and live for her, for me, my
family, with the spirit of life that my parents instilled in me – give back to
others and be your best self.
