Just a follow up from a couple weeks ago, my daughter Angel finished her first marathon. She did an amazing job and I’m proud of her. I am joyful that she achieved her goal.

I experienced a wide array of emotions on marathon day. First of all, pride. Angel was training for the big day for months. She was very disciplined and serious about her training, at times turning down fun activities that interfered with her training schedule. She avoided all alcohol. She counted calories; making sure she was eating enough which properly fueled her body and gave her strength. She thinks that is where I went wrong when I was training. I ate when I was hungry and didn’t eat when I wasn’t.

I felt a lot of anxiety for her during the training process. I feared injury, but mainly I feared she would be victimized as a beautiful young woman running alone on long, lonely trails and through sketchy neighborhoods. I feared she could be hit by careless drivers which almost happened to both her and me.

I felt relief in the dream lived. I already completed multiple marathons and finished that goal. It was not something I always wanted to do but never achieved. I have no regrets except that that part of my life is over.

I felt sadness, especially when I saw mothers and daughters crossing the finish line together. I wanted to be that mom. I wanted that to be us. Angel and I did run a few of the same races. She was just beginning as I was coming to an end.

I felt envious of all the support she received from family and friends. Most of the time, and for my first marathon, my only spectator was my husband. He was an amazing support person. Some of Angel’s friends drove for hours to see her cross the finish line. It’s a reminder of what I didn’t have. I never received the support of my parents, although I used that to be the parent I always wanted for my children. It’s a part of giving what you don’t have, but knowing what you would’ve wanted to create something wonderful out of nothing worth passing down to the next generation.

I miss feeling young, strong, and important. I received a lot of attention for my accomplishments. Now I’m just a has been with a collection of medals hanging on the wall. It shows where I was and where I now am. I’ve come to accept that and have moved on to new dreams and goals.

I feel satisfaction that my daughter decided to follow in my footsteps. She finished her first marathon in her 20’s whereas I was in my 40’s. I am excited to see where she will go with this. It’s exciting to be a part of what inspired her. In some ways, through her, I am still experiencing it. Being a spectator is more difficult than I expected. The path of a participant is clearly marked. But as a spectator, it is not clear about where to go or when they will be there. The tracking app was not working for the marathon so we had to wing it. Then there were closed roads down unfamiliar streets. Marathon traffic. Finding a place to park. An inability to find bathrooms or food/drinks. Long walks carrying lawn chairs.

I miss the lifestyle and comradery of the running community. I miss the friendships strengthened and formed over a common passion. Those were the best years of my life. Overall, I’m happy my daughter decided to choose the same path I did. She is able to carry on some of the goodness in me.