Late on Monday afternoon, I received a text message from Scott: “I’m going for a run, I just emailed you my route. I should be home by 7.” I read it, but was busy with something else and didn’t check the route right away.
7pm comes, and I’m in the kitchen happily cooking away– pasta with tomato cream sauce. I heard his keys in the front door and watched as he stumbled in, his chest, shoulders, and face beet red. He laid down on the carpeted floor of the living room and let out a deep breath. I went over, and sat down next to him, his eyes were closed. “How far did you go?” I asked quietly. “15 miles…” he said in between breaths. I was stunned– he missed our group run this weekend with the marathon group, so he decided to run it on his own. He works full time and is one and a half semesters away from a graduating with computer engineering degree– needless to say, he’s a busy guy. I patted his sweaty head and felt total admiration well up inside me.
After cooling off for a minute, he looked at me with one of the most pitiful expressions I have ever seen in my life and asked, “Can you make me an ice bath?” “Sure,” I replied, smiling, and I got up to go fill the tub with cold water. He followed in shortly after, gingerly lowering into the water, and asked for a gatorade and a glass of milk. I grabbed them, along with the ice from our freezer, and gave him a towel to wrap his upper body in. I dumped the ice into the water over his legs, and listened to him tell me the big and small details of his solo 15 miler.
Most people would think that putting your husband into a freezing cold tub of water and sitting to watch while he shivers sounds like some form of spousal torture… But to us, it was a gesture loaded with unsaid words: I support you. I’m proud of you. I understand why you love this so much. I’m willing to do whatever you need to chase your goals. You take care of me, and I take care of you.
Running is good. Being a runner is great. Being married to a runner? Greatest. 🙂