Through Her Eyes VII

We're back at the doctors today, she is hoping for any new information but I don't think there will be any. I lost more weight, more muscle and they have to carry me almost everywhere. I can see her tears and hear the anxiety and panic in her voice and words...she's scared. I crawled under the bench so she couldn't see me suffer and I felt the warm hands of her bigger little wrap around me. He never lived with us but he was around a lot and I spent many nights sleeping in his room and keeping the monsters at bay. He lets me sleep on his bed and shares his snacks with me...I can feel his heart and when he catches his breath to continue his sobbing. I love my family but I don't think I can be here anymore...I wish the doctor would tell them instead of giving me more medications. I felt her hand on my nose and I slowly made my way out from under the bench...they're going to try one more time...this is for her, because I owe my person one more try.

She rested my head on her lap on the way home and I love to hear her sing in my ear as I drift off to sleep...she is my person...

Through Her Eyes VI

I sit at the front door while she laces up her shoes, I want to lay down to stop the pain but I like seeing her happy. She runs a lot these days and I wish I could tag along but I can't even make it around the block anymore. The pain lasts longer these days and the pills they give me make me sleep and I miss her when she's gone. She thinks I will get better but she doesn't know how sick I am and I don't think I am getting any better. She seems to be happier these days and spends her days playing with the little one and I can hear her laugh while I'm drifting off hoping to dream back to the days when we would play in the park.

I remember one morning when she and I were in the park, it was earlier than usual and the little one wasn't here yet but I knew she was on her way...I could feel her in my person. We were walking around the park and there was another dog that was stalking her. My person called me close to her, she knows I have issues with my anxiety and other dogs being around us but she doesn't know that this dog is following us...I may have been wrong in the past and jumped to conclusions before I met the dog. I don't like strange pups around my people...I didn't mean to bite him but he was too close to her. I would never snap at her so when she pulled my collar I immediately released...who will take care of her next time? My person needs me...and I hang on for her...

Through Her Eyes V

They took me to the doctors today, I didn't want to go but she is adamant that they find out why I am limping. I think it's because I sleep under her side of the bed but I am sore and the stairs feel like a lot of work these days. I can't play with her little person like I used to and I hope my person isn't upset with me...I try very hard but my old legs don't work as well as they used to anymore. The little person is good to me and tries to give me lots of treats but I just don't feel hungry...I hide them so they don't get cross with her. The doctor keeps moving my back legs and touching my back, it hurts so much but I don't want to complain...I don't want her to worry about me. I'm scared for her, she isn't ready to be without me, I have to be strong...I can beat this, I can be a better dog.

I woke feeling a little better although everything is spinning...I can hear the little person and can feel his hand on my head...I must be home...I hope she is here too...

Through Her Eyes IV

I'm pretty tired today, I laid awake waiting for her to go sleep. She arrived home late last night and even let me lay with her on the couch and told me about her trip...I wish I knew what she was saying to me. I wish I could talk to her. I haven't been feeling very well lately, yesterday I peed on the floor but he didn't yell at me...he thinks it's because I'm nervous...I hope he's right. I try my best everyday to wag my tail so they know I am happy. I don't want them to know I haven't been feeling my best lately, she needs me right now and has enough to worry about.

I must have dozed off, I can hear the little one talking to my person...I'm just going to lay here a little longer until they call me out...

Through Her Eyes III

Today I watched her eat, not because I want some but because I rarely see her do it anymore...she pushes it around her plate and every now and then it makes its way to the floor. He always sits with her in the mornings and waits for the little person to come down the stairs. These days she is home more often but when she is gone it feels like forever. I lay under her bed now rather than on my own bed, I can hear her breath and cry but I'm not allowed on the bed so I have to stay under it and cry with her. I think she might be feeling a little better though because sometimes we go outside and I watch her play with the little one and she is showing her how to throw the ball to me.

I remember the day I rescued them, he thought I was picking him because I placed my paw on the back of his leg...but I just needed him to move so she could see me. Our eyes met and I could feel her heart link with mine...I found my person, my soul person...

Through Her Eyes II

Her storms are changing and I can feel a shift in her soul. Her sadness is strong and she barely sees me anymore, it's like she looks right through me but I love her anyway. Sometimes in the mornings she will come and sit on the couch with her computer and allows me to put my head on her lap. I can't talk to her but I can feel her, she needs me, she is my person. She's gone a lot these days but I know she's coming back because he is still here and so is her little person...I take care of the little person when she's gone so she knows the little one will be okay...I wonder if they found the little one where they found me?

My person cries a lot these days and sometimes doesn't change out of her pyjamas until late in the day; I try to take her for walks but she doesn't respond when I bring her my leash so I let the little person walk me around the house. I worry about my person and do my best to be a good dog...

Through Her Eyes

I was finally home after what seemed liked forever; my legs were still a bit stiff but it was a good ache. I found Django laying in the kitchen when I turned-on the light, she was barely able to move her head to greet me but her tail told the story. I leaned down and cradled her in my arms to move her to her extra big pillow. I laid beside her as the big spoon and told her all about my trip while I rubbed her belly. These days I liked to tell her the story of the day she chose us and we brought her home. She was rescued as a new puppy and spent three months in the SPCA before she tapped Dan on the back of his leg and looked at him with her big brown eyes and oversized ears. He carried her up and down the stairs for weeks because she was terrified of them but slowly she built her confidence and started to try on her own. She struggled with separation anxiety and would pee on the floor if I even left to get the mail; it was the first time I realized how similar we were...with the anxiety, not the peeing on the floor. Then a few years later she was diagnosed with a muscle disease but we did all the work and nursed her back to health knowing she would forever have to take a pill and being completely okay in that truth as long as she was comfortable. The last eighteen months hasn't be easy for myself and my family...and here she was laying drugged up to fend off the pain and has done nothing but console me through it all. I'm hoping I'm not too late...I owe her so much...

Writer on the Run XXX

I sat at the gate in LaGuardia and watched the times roll back with delayed signs for my flight knowing that if another ten minutes passed I would not make my connection in Toronto. I reflected back to my class and could see the eyes widening and jaws falling to the floor regarding my open marriage...I decided to not tell about the abuse...I refuse to give that another thought or minute of my life. It happened and I made it through; whatever happens in my life is to my credit or to my fault...but it is mine and all mine. It felt so good to light my life and watch the darkness disappear...I'm okay, actually I feel amazing. It's funny how you can fear the secrets and skeletons coming out but it only healed me. My truth makes others uncomfortable and I can understand and appreciate that because it held me prisoner for so long...but it's no longer my issue, it was a chapter in my life but will not make my book. The beauty of writing is that I decide what I put on paper so although you may read about my affairs in the Big Apple...there won't be a single word about the little girl I kept in the cage.

I waved to Ramone behind the counter, we have become airport friends. Looks like he got me on a different flight with an upgrade...life is amazing and the woman who started that run completely transformed after 26.2 miles. Chin up and eyes forward I have a life to get on with...

Writer on the Run XXIX

Three days later and I still winced every time I had to walk up or down stairs. I had my class tonight and would be leaving bright and early to catch my flight home...I feel like I have been gone for weeks. I'm nowhere near the NY speed for walking and in the Village it seems to be okay. My son made it home safely and was back in his dorm and on the field...I still miss him. I turned down second avenue to walk the last three blocks to my class...then four long flights of stairs up. It was worth it, this time next year and I should be close if not done my book. With every door I remove from my life I feel freer and less afraid...I have no secrets and I don't want any.

She buzzed me in and I stood at the base of the first step for a long pause...it's my turn to read. Not one of my peers knows my story but I'm no longer ashamed to tell it...I am a survivor of sexual abuse, I am not societies definition of a traditional wife and/or mother and I suffer from an anxiety disorder...my darkness no longer exists, it can't...

Writer on the Run XXVIII

I watched him walk down the steps to his train and this is hardly new for us...it was part of our lives for so long. The excitement when I see his face come around the corner for a visit and then the heart sinking feeling when he turns the same corner with a final wave. Seeing his face when I came around the corner in Central Park to finish out the last few hundred meters was everything I needed it to be. I finally walked away and down the long hallway like I was swimming against the salmon...I needed to get to Port Authority to catch my bus to Jersey...I hope Cleopatra isn't going to want a long walk tonight because it's not going to happen. Clarence is back at the firehouse so it's just her and I for a few days...

Writer on the Run XXVII

I slept over thirteen hours and woke feeling like I had been in an car accident. He laughed as I tried to  make my way to the bathroom...not entirely sure how I was going to be able to sit down or get back up. My only hope was the more I moved the looser my muscles became. He was leaving to go back to Montreal this evening and I was heading back to Jersey for the last few days of my trip so I didn't want to spend the day in bed...well I did, but I wanted to spend the day in Manhattan with him more. The bottoms of my feet were raw and full of opened blisters, I was nervous about the shoes I could wear knowing there was no way I was wearing socks or the shoes I used in the race yesterday. I remembered on the bus on the way to Staten Island a gentleman was talking about how he had a 10km race this morning, the day after the marathon...clearly I didn't train well enough.

I looked down the flights of stairs and thought about going down on my bum but I toughed it out and leaned on his shoulders with each step. We decided to slowly walk to Harold Square to shop around and grab a bite to eat. The worst pain by far was at the top of my foot where it met my ankle...with every step I wanted to bang my head on a brick wall...who the fuck does this...and more than once?  Screw it, we're taking the subway...

Writer on the Run XXVI

A whole hour sitting in Century 21 on the West Side while he shops and I writhe in pain. There isn't a cab to be seen and I cannot imagine anything much worse than this. I smell like I ran a marathon and feel like I did...so sitting here waiting for time to pass is just about all I can take. He found a hat and tried on some shirts to pass the time but I had enough and was willing to pay an uber to take me through the Financial District and back up the East side at this point. He waited in line and I walked out the door just in time to step into a cab as someone else stepped out. Luckily by this time the streets were starting to open up again; I didn't care how long it took...I was not getting out of this car until I was in front of my door.

Only 25 minutes for a typical seven minute ride but I didn't care, I was more concerned about the five story walk up I would have to conquer next. I paid the driver and couldn't thank him enough for trying every known street in the area to cross over to the East side. My son grabbed my bag of things from the race and helped me up the stairs...I'm about to spend ten minutes in an ice bath and I'm a touch nervous that I won't be able to ever get out. I walked over to the couch to take off my shoes...knowing they would not be back on my feet for several weeks...if ever again. It hurt more to take them off then walk with them and I have no idea how I will finish out the next week walking around the city. Across the room I could see a bunch of snacks and gifts laid out along with a sign to cheer me on...I love this kid so much...I was too dehydrated to shed another tear but that didn't stop my face from trying...he gets the picture.

I grabbed my towel and made my way to where he had already drawn me an ice cold bath with ice cubes...he sets the timer on his watch...here goes nothing...

Writer on the Run XXV

It's how you finish...and I finished strong. I was met with a lady holding a metal to go around my neck and a gentleman who tried to hand me a bag filled with Gatorade bottles...no thanks, I can barely carry myself let alone ten pounds of liquids. I got pictures taken, congratulated and hugged...what an incredible feeling and accomplishment. Since I opted for the poncho I had to walk to Cherry Hill to claim it which was another mile round trip then I had to climb a few flights of stairs to make my way to Central Park West where he would be waiting for me.

I didn't think I was going to make it even one more block until I could hear him calling me, relief replaced fear. He would carry me if I dropped...I know that much. He and I have an amazing bond that has always been rich in support, love, understanding and kindness. He really made me a better person and continues to challenge me, which isn't always welcome initially but I am so grateful for. We sat on steps while I pulled on his sweat pants and shirt that he brought for me to wear post race...such a gentleman. Now...how the fuck are we going to get to the East Side with all of the roads closed....I couldn't possibly walk...

Writer on the Run XXIV

I felt somewhat rejuvenated as I made my way through Spanish Harlem, until it looked like a game of Mario Kart with all of the banana peels everywhere...add water to the mix and it's now an extreme marathon. I started to count down the blocks knowing where Central Park starts and that I will complete the run on the west side of it. With each mile I could feel my hips tighten and ache, I kept praying that my legs wouldn't give out knowing that it happens all the time to even the most seasoned marathoners. I had almost talked all my confidence back into my mind and body when a women carrying an enormous American Flag complete with the ten foot pole blew by me like I was standing still...I really hope someone handed her that a few blocks ago and she didn't start with it; I was having trouble still holding onto my iPod shuffle. Finally the turn into the park and I was trying my best not to give up mentally knowing I only have three miles left...it may as well be the start line...

We made another right and turned down Central Park South headed for Columbus Circle before we made our last right hand turn and back into the park to finish and come hell or high water....I will sprint across the finish line...my emotions came flooding back when I thought about my son watching me complete with epic day...the chanting begins and the crowd pushes you forward to the finish line.  I took a deep breath and felt the warm tears stream down my face when I made the final turn and entered back into the park.  My son and I walked this the day before so I knew it was close and the tears poured harder. I ran up beside a woman who was struggling with walking and reminded her that she would still be sore tomorrow but she only has this last two hundred metres to finish strong...she smiled through her own tears and did her best impression of a runner.  I looked to my right and locked eyes with my beautiful son...lets' finish this...

Writer on the Run XXVIII

By the time I hit mile seventeen I could feel my legs start to shake so I grabbed a carbo gel from my belt and sucked it back with some water.   I took pics with people holding signs and when I hit the wall at mile 20...I called Dan crying hoping he would tell me to stop but knowing those words would never cross his mind or his lips. I had it in the back of my head that once I crossed the last bridge from the Bronx and into Manhattan I would be on the home stretch but I struggled knowing it would still be another ninety minutes of running. I can't quit...my son is waiting for me at the finish...


Becoming someone who finishes what they start regardless of what lies ahead has been someone I have ached to become...this is the first step...when I cross the finish line I will have no excuses for not crossing it in every other corner of my life. It was a profound moment for me when I realized I had finally become the woman I had respected and loved. I crossed the last bridge, wiped my tears and carried on down Fifth Avenue heading for Central Park...

Writer on the Run XXVII

By the time I crossed the ten kilometer mark I was already feeling sore and only wished that my knee wouldn't get the sharp pinch in it that would make me walk. I could see the people piling up at the meds tent with ever mile and I knew that was not an option for me...if I took off my shoes they would never go back on...those blisters will have to wait until tonight. By mile nine I was sweating and needed to shed my long sleeve shirt but worried what would happen to my bib that held the chip and tracked my progress. I finally found an official and he helped me undress without compromising my run then I tied my shirt around my waist and carried on. I read that if the chip is compromised or if you stray that you would be automatically disqualified and if by chance you still tried to cross the finish line you would then be banned from future marathons...they are not playing around.


I felt nothing but relief when I seen a woman holding a sign that said "Welcome to Queens"...Brooklyn seemed to go on for what felt like forever. The relief was short lived though, the Queensboro Bridge may have as well have been a mountain with the incline...thank goodness the bridges are the only major obstacle. I decided to walk up the one side so I could run down the other and onto 1st Street in Manhattan...halfway over the bridge I can see the 13.1 mile sign and I am halfway done. I wonder how long I can run on just happiness and momentum from realizing that there is no way I will not cross that finish line...I break into stride...

Writer on the Run XXVI

I had read ahead and knew that there would be kilometre markers every five kilometres and mile markers at every marker starting at three. I read that after the three mile mark there would be toilets and water or gatorade at every mile and when we reached the seventeen mile marker you could grab a banana or gel pack to help you from hitting the wall. I wasn't anywhere close to that but knowing it was available as I checked off miles was great.

I wasn't very far into the run when I realized how different training on the treadmill was from running on the pavement...which is unforgiving to my joints. I decided early on that I would drink water at every water station and only drink the gatorade if I felt exhausted or weak.

I could see the streets start to fill up with spectators and still felt amazing when I reached the five kilometre marker. The taxi driver I had this morning told me that there are fifty thousand participants, about twenty three thousand volunteers and over a hundred thousand spectators for the marathon...it didn't even shake me...this is what makes running the NYC so appealing. It occurred to me as I was running through Brooklyn that I have barely ever ventured out into the other boroughs at all...maybe there is more to NYC than just Manhattan...