Karen

In 2011, Karen Scoresby and I qualified and ran the Boston Marathon.  It was before the world was afraid of pressure cooker bombs or mass shootings.  The marathon was a pure event, untouched by the chaos and evil in the world.  Everything about this race was happy and exciting, especially at Hopkinton high school, the start of the race.  Karen and I sat there (pictured above) at the staging point for the race in the cold morning air, while her husband and his friends found us cardboard to sit on to keep our bums from getting wet in the morning dew.

It was a sight to see Karen and I run and train together: she's all of five one and I tower over her at 5'11".  My strides were twice hers, but those little legs could match me toe for toe.  We had an even running pace and it worked.  We had a pact that we would "save" our interesting stories for the long run day,  when we could get every detail and/or gripe out to each other.  We had an understanding that what was said on the long run, stayed on the long run -- zipped up tight and never repeated.  It worked for us.  I'll miss those long, cathartic runs with her.

Karen passed away on February 2, 2018.  She was 52 years old -- too young.  She developed an aggressive glioblastoma brain tumor which she fought valiantly for 20 months.  She leaves behind a husband, four children and a grand daughter, along with vast swath of friendships that came together last week in support and love for her.   Karen is not the first of my friends to die of this awful disease.  And she may not be the last.  Cancer is a roulette curse that falls on it's victims with no mind for who is ready to take on the enormous burden.

Our group of running ladies still meet at the same corner we have for the last 15 years.  We have all dealt with our own heartbreaks and problems.  We continue to meet because running (biking, swimming, hiking, yoga, pilates, exercise) is our own natural antidepressant.  Running unites us with a common goal, which may just be jogging to the next stoplight some mornings.  It is the sweat and the cadence and the heartbeat and the speed and the slow and the push and the pain and the breathing and the exhilaration all wrapped into something called a workout.  Memories are made and friendships are built on the long run, whether that's three miles or 20.

So find your people.  Create some memories.  Life is precious and so are those that you love.  Keep running.  Keep fighting.  Keep dreaming.  It's worth it.