I looked down at my iPhone as it marked mile 6…I know this is where magic happens. It’s when my legs stop hurting, when my lungs stop burning, and I am lost in the soft churn of the sunrise and the sound of the breeze.
I took up distance running during the busiest year of my residency in internal medicine. Something inside me signed up for marathons.
Maybe that something was anger – the day I heard my patient yelling at me after a 16 hour work day “I hate this hospital, and I deserve all your time!” I sat inside the facility room and cried, my dad was hospitalized and I didn’t have time to see him and just be a daughter. My dad deserves all my time.
Maybe it’s exhaustion – Obama care had brought so so many patients who had not seen a doctor in 20yrs, and in my 15min appointment, they have a list of 10 problems, and you just feel so so small and overwhelmed.
Maybe it’s the darkness – for a good 2 months of this past winter, I didn’t see the sun. My work started before the sunrise, and rolled well into the sunset. Living in darkness was isolating.
Maybe it’s the other things – that boy you loved that broke your heart but you walked bravely into another 14 hour work day, and all the friends you lost cause there’s no way they can understand why you can’t attend their wedding, their birthdays, and their worst days.
Maybe it’s grief – that day when you watch a daughter show her dad their childhood videos as he slips away. That day when a wife crawl into bed to hold her husband as he took his last breath. Or the family that finally overcame their resentment of each other, and unite at their parent’s death bed.
Maybe more times than not it’s pure joy – the day you watch someone wake up from a horrific illness, and know they’ll be alright. The day your patient made up a medical problem so they can have an appointment just to say you’re the best doctor they’ve ever had. And every single time you watch your patients leave the hospital safe and sound.
Back in high school, I ran for the races. Now I run for all the things in my life that I win and those that I can not. I run for those magical moments in time when everything feels wonderful and nothing hurts. At mile 6, I know that this run…it’s for me.