by Ayelet Menchaca De Luna, Spartan Chicked Community member
Last night I reached my goal for the summer, or rather I passed it… and then I cried. I stood on the track, looked around me, and cried. You see, my husband was an U.S Marine and one of the things we did every night was jog together. When we first started, he jogged and I huffed and puffed my way through. It was “our time” together, away from the world, and a break from the kids. Jogging with him by my side, encouraging me, pulling me along right beside him, and I made it up to 5 miles! WOOHOO.
I decided I wanted to do more but I never could make it farther than five miles. HE would tell me, “don’t stop just keep trying. I KNOW you can do 6.” I’ll never forget his words “My darling, you’ve got this! One stride at a time.”
After three deployments and a long battle with PTSD on March 27, 2008 my husband died. I stopped running. In the past five years I gained weight and couldn’t even run halfway down the block. I wanted to get back to where I was before. Last night I did not meet my five mile goal… I exceeded it instead. I laced up my shoes, put on my headphones, and I ran. I ran 6 miles! I looked around me, and all I could do was cry.
One stride at a time.
Read more about PTSD HERE.