Four days ago, Meg Menzies was hit by a drunk driver while running, dying as a result of her injuries.
Because I follow so many running pages on Facebook, the story of the tragedy was all over my news feed. I quickly learned more about Meg... she was a mother... three young children... 34 years old... training for the Boston Marathon. The more I read, the more Meg's story affected me. She is so similar to me. No, I am in no way training for Boston, but both being young moms who run... that right there, it was enough. In my head, I kept thinking, "What if it had been me?" I could picture her children when they found out that their mommy wasn't coming home. Their faces were replaced by my own babies' faces, and of course my heart broke.
Across the running community, people are running in honor of Meg tomorrow. I typically rest on Saturdays, but I really wanted to run tomorrow. Unfortunately, it's probably not going to happen with our schedules. Instead, I decided to dedicate my 5 miles today to Meg. I have ran a few Fridays before work by myself, getting up at 4:45 AM and setting out for either a tempo run or a hard progressive run in my neighborhood. It's the toughest day of the week for me. I'm tired from a long work week. I really don't like running alone anymore. I am afraid of tempo runs because they're so hard. Today was no exception. I just didn't want to get up and run. But today, I wasn't running for myself. I was running for Meg. Each and every step, she was in my mind, in my heart. I pushed each mile a little harder, and at the end of my final mile (which was sub-8:00, my 5K race pace), I felt my throat swell with impending tears. As I walked down my street cooling down, looking up at the moonlight, I spoke aloud to Meg, telling her how sorry I was for what had happened. Meg, those miles were for you. You will not be forgotten.