This one goes out to the ones I love

It will be four months ago on Saturday that I first pulled on a pair of running shoes and hit the road.

The previous day I was given the results of my latest physical. I was overweight and had high blood pressure and cholesterol.

My first long-distance run

Fortunately my depression had receded enough that I was able to do something about it, rather than descend into my usual downward spiral of despair, guilt and self-hatred.

While it wasn’t easy at the outset, I’ve managed to stick with not only running, but also cycling, strength training and eating better.

The results have been encouraging. I’ve lost 25 pounds and about four inches from my waist. My blood pressure is about 20 points lower and I can now run for more than 20 kilometres without stopping.

On Sunday I’m putting all of that to the test in my first race, a half marathon at Canadian Forces Base Borden. While I’m hoping to finish it in less than 2:30, I’ll be happy just to finish it at all, considering just four months ago I couldn’t even walk to the grocery store just 10 minutes away without getting overheated and a little winded. (I now walk almost everywhere – according to my pedometer, I’ve logged 750,000 steps in the last three months and should hit one million by the end of October.)

It’s traditional for runners to dedicate a race to someone important in their lives – many times those who run in charity runs, like the Run For The Cure, will dedicate the run to someone who has died from or who has survived an illness like cancer.

There’s no way I could choose just one person, so I’m going to tell you about some remarkable people who are always close to my heart when I’m out pounding the pavement.

Jimmie and Jeff circa 1992

First off, I’m dedicating tomorrow’s race to Jeffrey ‘Judique’ Graham and his family; Marion, Charlie, Jennifer, Todd, Shannon and Jessica.

Jeff loved sports – although many would argue his choice of teams he supported (like the Canadiens) was suspect. I know that if he was still with us, he’d be out there on the road with me if he could and, if not, he would be a big supporter. Jeff and I were roommates for our second year at St. Francis Xavier and there were many times he was there for me, especially when my mood was depressed. Few people could make me laugh like he did. He was a good listener and always had sound advice. In fact, when he was a residence assistant in third year, he’d have a steady parade of the first- and second-year students to his room. Although on the surface it may have looked like guys just stopping by to shoot the breeze, I know they were looking to learn from his experience.

I still miss him terribly.

I was fortunate enough to be close enough to Jeff that I got to meet his family numerous times, including during the summers between school years. No one outside of my immediate family and in-laws has ever made me feel as much a part of their family as the Grahams have.

The Graham girls, Jennifer, Shannon, Jessica and Marion

Marion, Jeff’s mother, is my 'Mom in Judique.' She has a tremendous heart and is one of the strongest people I know. She is incredibly smart, funny and wise. Even though Jeff has been gone for almost 20 years, Marion always welcomes his friends with open arms which is so important for those of us who cling to the memory of Jeff. Just being in her presence helps me re-connect with Jeff because I see so much of him in her.

Jeff’s father Charlie is a remarkable man who, while more the strong silent type, has one of the most wicked senses of humour you’ll ever see. There have been plenty of times we’d be out in the shop playing cards and throwing around good-natured insults when Charlie would throw out the biggest zinger of them all, leaving us all in stitches. His always-calm demeanor has helped me get through some very difficult times.

I’d like to share one example of what type of people Charlie and Marion are with something they did for me that is still one of the most profound episodes in my life.

The day before Jeff’s funeral, Charlie and Marion were standing in the receiving line at the hall where Jeff’s remains were resting. I was having a very difficult time and had to leave the line to go sit at the back of the hall. Seeing me leave, Charlie and Marion left the line and came over to sit with and comfort me. That single act sums up the type of people they are. I will be forever grateful for what they did that day.

The Graham boys, Todd, left, and Charlie, right.

The rest of the family has been equally as special to me over the years. I got to see how much Jeff loved Jennifer, Todd, Shannon and Jessica when I lived with him because he talked about them all the time. And he was so proud of them. Whether it was something Jenn or Shannon had accomplished at school, his excitement when Todd was coming for a visit or Jessica learning her numbers for the first time, you could see how much he enjoyed talking about them. I’ll always remember the delight he took in telling me the time Jessica turned five and told Jeff she was now “a whole hand old” holding up five fingers. He laughed and laughed whenever telling that story.

This journey we call life takes us places we’d never be able to envision when we were young and I will consider myself forever lucky to have been able to share a place and time with Jeff and his family. That’s why I’m dedicating Sunday’s run to them.

Mom with me when I had more hair than I do now.

I’ll also be dedicating it to the strongest person I know, my mom Carol. For those who don’t know my mom, she’s had, to put it mildly, a history of health problems. In fact, you could probably write several medical papers on her history. She’s had more than 20 – yes, 20 – surgeries in her life. She’s suffered from debilitating migraines since she was a young girl and had a grand mal seizure in the ‘80s. She’s had numerous surgeries on her bowels and has not been able to eat in 15 months (she is fed intravenously with a formula that is typically used to keep coma patients alive). She also has systemic lupus, subcutaneous lupus, fibromyalgia and Reynaud’s Syndrome.

Despite all those problems, she managed to not only raise me and my two brothers, but hold down several different careers including working in a law office, for a school board, at a high school and, most recently, as an insurance adjuster. Remarkably, she started there answering the phone but showed so much potential she was promoted and flourished in her new career.

I have no doubt that mom’s illnesses would have broken most people long, long ago. She has bent many times but has never broken.   

Real black and white photo -- not Photoshopped. Yes, I'm that old.

This week, when things were looking desperate for her and my dad and I were in her room waiting for her to undergo a battery of tests, I was reminded of a scene from the last episode of the old television show MASH. It was the scene when Father Mulcahy is saying goodbye to Colonel Potter.

Col. Potter: Well, Francis, you've been a godsend. 

Father Mulcahy: Look on the bright side: When they tell us to serve our time in Purgatory, we can say, "No thanks, I've done mine."

That sums up my mom. She’s not only done her part, she’s done it with a strength and grace that are inspirational.

When I’m flagging during a run, I often think of what she’s had to endure and it always helps me push through the pain. I know I’ll call on that strength during Sunday’s race.

There are so many more people who are responsible for getting me to where I am today and I want to thank them.

Christopher, the old me, dad and Steven who now has 21-inch pythons thanks to Crossfit

My father Lee, who has literally carried me along for the last two years. On those days when I would crawl across my bedroom floor trying to get to the bathroom for a shower, he would answer my wife’s calls and race over, help me to my feet and take me for a walk around the block just to get me moving. He would hold me and tell me he wished he could take the pain I was in on himself.

My girls

My wife Paula, who has carried the largest burden of my illness over the last two years. On those days I was sickest, she was, for all intents and purposes, a single parent. She would take care of me and make sure our daughter Claire was living the life of a normal little girl. Paula is my confidant, my best friend, the one who manages to put a smile on my face every day and has saved me in every sense of the word.

My daughter Claire, who is the main reason I put one foot in front of the other on those days I want nothing more than to sleep to keep the black dogs at bay. Until we had Claire I had no idea how much space there is in the human heart to love. She knows when I’m having a bad day and will give me hugs and kisses that help. And on the good days, I love nothing more than spending time with her, watching her love and live life to the fullest.

My brothers Steven and Christopher and their families who are always there to support me without questions or conditions. And now that I’ve started living a more active life, Steven’s been a fantastic resource and inspiration for me to keep at it. (Even though we still have that competitive sibling rivalry – he reminds me that I can’t deadlift 300 pounds and I remind him he can’t run 20K.)

Paula, Claire, Alice, me and Romano at my favourite pit of gluttony, Mandarin

My extended family, including aunts, uncles, cousins and my wife’s family. My in-laws Alice and Romano have been incredibly supportive over the years and always make me feel like a part of the family, as has Paula's brother Andrew, her sister Jana and her husband Jason. They have helped me, Paula and Claire too many times to count.

My old grade and high school friends, including Jeff Watkins, John McGarvey, John Amyot, Leticia Siasat, James Monaghan, Christophe Credico and Marc Sontrop who have reached out with support and offers to hit the road cycling together. Special thanks to Jay Weaver who’s been my number one online run supporter.

The X crew: Jeff McCarthy (kneeling), me, Ed, Tim (on swing), Dave, Brad, David, Brian, Chris and Jimmie at Judique-on-the-Floor, 2009)

My old university friends, including Ed Moran, Jimmie Inch, Stew Hayne, David Hackett, Brian Ames, Tim O’Regan, Jeff McCarthy, Chris O’Shea, Melinda Mansour, Brent Howley, David Reid and Brad Alyward for their ongoing support and friendship over the years, especially through my dark senior year. I would not be here if it wasn’t for their unconditional support that year. Nadine Day -- who lived above me and my roommates Brian and Tim in senior year, has been very supportive -- and she's also a super running mom!

The OMG crew, including Paul, Trent, Dean, Marc and Josh.

To anyone else who has taken the time to read my blog, ‘Like’ one of my Facebook statuses or sent me an e-mail during my journey back to health over the last four months – people like Paula, Dave, Shannon, Sandy and Denise – I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Well, I guess that’s it.

It’s time to go run.