I'm a Woman

The view from my mountain bike this morning in Marquette.

I'm just back from what feels like a relatively quick trip to Marquette, Michigan. I'm exhausted, I'm sore, and I still don't know exactly why I went. My half marathon went well -- I felt strong, ran hard but not too hard, pushed myself but not to the med-tent-needed point -- and the course was beautiful. Was that the only reason for the nearly 800-mile round trip?

I ended up going alone, so I thought maybe I was going to meet a man, but I didn't. Instead, I met or encountered a bunch of cool women, including this one, with an absolutely incredible voice, who happened to be playing at one of the three awesome brew pubs I visited on Saturday night.

Though I didn't hear her play this song -- it seems a fitting tribute to my weekend:

I'm a woman.
I'm a woman.
I'm a woman.
Yeah, I'm a woman.

Kinda obvious but also pretty damn profound, especially since leading up to the race I was dealing with all kinds of injuries on my left (feminine) side, and during the race I felt and released a bunch of painful things related to being a woman.

I felt as if they were all running with me: the little girl who tried so hard to get her father's attention; the teenager obsessed with boys she didn't and wouldn't let herself know; the in-tears bride who felt so many things that were not unadulterated joy on her wedding day; the woman who gave birth to two children for whom she is profoundly grateful; the woman who would like to have another baby; the woman who finally managed to love with her whole fabulous self only to lose him in the end; and the woman who was brave enough to make the long trip to the U.P. solo, running her own race this time -- not against her 23-year old self as she did in Chicago -- but the one she wanted to, felt like, and was capable of running on August 31, 2013.

In the end, I guess the trip was about healing. About being where I am, which is uncoupled. Not just without a partner -- this doesn't feel so tragic because I know I will have another partner when I'm really ready -- but without the wonderful man who gave me back so much of myself.

It's both a heart-wrenching loss and a gift for which I am grateful.

Every single day.