I had a great weekend. I spent plenty of time with the kids, got some work done in the garage, hung out with the wife, visited my grandparents, ran a marathon and even took a nap on the couch. It was wonderful! And that made me miserable.
I had been looking forward to this weekend for a while — it was my third weekend staying home this year and for the first time I wasn’t overwhelmed with planned Operation Jack activities. But by the time I woke up for my race on Sunday morning, I was totally bummed about how much I enjoyed Saturday because it made me realize what I’m missing every other weekend.
I have naysayers who think this is the wrong thing for me to do, and for the first time, I understood why. It would be so nice to do these things every weekend, like just about every other dad in America. But I’m spending my weekends everywhere but home. I woke up on Sunday morning and was sad for the first time this year. It’s tough being away, but it’s really tough being home and realizing what you’re missing when you’re away.
I got ready for my race in the comfort of my own home while everybody was sleeping, even the dogs. On my way out the door, I went and checked on Jack and covered him up, because he’d slipped out from his blanket. I gave Benjamin and Ava a kiss on the cheek — they were camping out in the playroom in their sleeping bags and they looked so cute! I went and gave Tiff a kiss on the cheek and told her I’d be safe and take care of myself, as I always do when I’m leaving before a race.
And then I got in my car and made the drive to Pasadena, completely unmotivated to run. I had my upbeat pre-race CD in the car and that didn’t even do the trick. I got to the race and just kind of roamed around aimlessly until the start. It seemed like all work, no play. I didn’t want to run. It was pretty miserable.
But somewhere along the way, it just kind of snapped for me. I thought back to my fifth marathon ever, the 2007 Carlsbad Marathon. That was one of the worst experiences I’ve ever had in a race. In my previous marathon, a runner died at the finish, and that shook me up. So in my next race, that run at Carlsbad, I went out and ran scared. I held back, afraid of not dying. It was absolutely miserable. I swore to myself during mile 24 of that race that I’d never run another marathon, but that changed about an hour after the finish, when I knew I didn’t want to dwell on that race forever. So I ran the Pacific Shoreline Marathon (now Surf City) two weeks later, 16 minutes faster. I got my groove back.
That mindset I had on that drive home from Carlsbad is similar to the mindset I had early on during Sunday’s race in Pasadena. At some point, I broke out of my funk and knew that I need to be all-in mentally. I know that as a family, we’re taking care of everything and moving along just fine. So I need to stick away from my short-term emotional swings and just keep rolling forward, chasing my goal of helping Train 4 Autism grow.
So, to wrap up this “Dear Diary” moment, that’s how a good weekend can actually be a miserable weekend. As I keep saying, the running is the easiest part of all this. I just need to keep my head up and my eyes focused straight ahead. Ten down, 50 to go!
Tiffany Felsenfeld says
I know it’s easy for me to say this, but just take ONE DAY AT A TIME! I’m glad you sort of snapped out of it on your way home from the race on Sunday. That tells me that your mental strength to get through this year is there… your physical strength I’m not worried about. We had such a fun weekend with you too! It’s times like that I definitely don’t take for granted. Love you!
Nancy Fries says
Sam, when I first heard about your endeavor I was one of those naysayers. I couldn’t understand why you would opt to be away from Jack and the rest of your family almost every weekend for a year. But the more I read about you, and about Tiffany’s unwavering support, the more I realized that you have a higher calling. You are making a selfless sacrifice so that children like Jack and my own autistic son Ian can have a brighter future. You have raised awareness in every city you have raced in, and you will continue to do so throughout the year. Next year, you can spend every weekend with your dear family, and those times will be all the sweeter. In the meantime, please know that there are countless families out here who are deeply grateful for your efforts.
Jill Peterson says
Sam, there are dads all over this country who are HOME every weekend who don’t have nearly the quality of relationship with their family that you obviously have with yours. What you are doing is wonderful and makes a difference. Who you are makes a difference. Keep your chin up! We look forward to hanging out with you soon!
Ally Phillips says
It’s totally normal and expected to have those moments of doubt and “why” and I couldn’t imagine doing what you do, but, YOU do it. And I know it’s your “stupid human trick” but, please know that it’s inspired so many people. And it will continue to–and to rasie awareness, etc. It’s only February–think of how much more can and will happen! I know that this year will be long for you and your family but, to second what Jill said, it will make next year that much sweeter. And yes, there are parents who are home to don’t make the most of those moments–you clearly DO.
You’ve shown us the improvements that Jack is making and I can’t help but think that it’s all related. And all of us who support you and OJ are cheering you and your family on every step of those 60 marathons and we are so excited and happy to see the growth in Jack and know that it is benefiting not only him, but others like him 🙂
Can’t wait to “run with” (er, I’ll be walking, true story) you in Catalina! Have a great time this weekend in Tampa with Morgan.