week, end.

there are weeks that pass by where the work you put in doesn't mean all that much, and then there are those where the sweat, the tears, the exhaustion, they all mean something.

this week was one of the latter.

I had three of my better runs of the past year and a half this week. they would be nothing compared to what my old self could accomplish. you know, the one who took her trials and grief out on her running shoes and whatever stretch of path was in front of her.

this week was one of those weeks.

in the past year and a half, i've learned to become more... balanced, I guess. I put aside my running and spent time with a HUMAN. a boy, at that. and talking to him made me not feel like I needed to release my frustrations via physical activity so much. This past month or so, running has taken a different spin because it's been running just for the sheer enjoyment of running, which is odd. I guess it's been a while since I ran without having a reason involving stress.

but this week was one of those weeks. yesterday, Thursday, was the anniversary of my mother's passing. Since I met with my mom's friend Karen in San Antonio, though, things have been different. I realized over dinner with her how much I focus on her dying and how I rarely think about her living. hearing stories of them yelling to each other from across the street reminded me that she was once a vibrant, happy young girl. and that, in turn reminded me that her life wasn't summed up by her being in a hospital bed those last two weeks. and so i've been concentrating on remembering her in life, not as she was dying. and you know what? it makes a world of difference.

when I was home this past weekend, my father told me that my grandfather, his father, wasn't doing well. he's been ill with Parkinson's for a while, but he had recently taken a turn. On Monday, dad called to tell me that my grandfather had passed away. It broke my heart. My grandfather and I weren't close, as they moved away when I was very young, but he and my grandmother have always been there for us when our family needed them. more than anything, it hurts to see my dad hurting. and this week, the pain is double what it should be. It's hard for him to watch my grandmother lose her husband, her partner in life, and I can tell how much it reminds him of his own personal pain.

I was at a funeral a bit after my mother had passed away, and the priest told the congregation that losing someone you love, someone that is so close to you, changes you for life. from that point on, you understand the pain that someone is going through when you see them grieving, and empathizing with that person brings back the pain that you've felt. I said once that grieving, no matter how much you do it, never gets easier... right now I would almost even say that it gets a lot worse.

so this week I took out my pain, my grieving, my frustration on the treadmill. hopefully i'm a better person because of it. but i'm glad this week is over.