Letting Go

Oh, favorite sweatshirt how I miss thee.

When I was packing for the race, one of the things I kept reminding myself to bring was a sweatshirt I would not be sad to part with. The race instructions, and those who had previously run the race, had implicitly said to bring an old sweatshirt that could be worn in the chilly morning and tossed aside along the race route. Those sweatshirts would be collected and donated.

But I forgot. Oh, I brought a sweatshirt all right. I brought my absolute favorite, comfiest, had it the longest time sweatshirt. You could say it's the closest thing I have to a blankie. It showed it's age--broken zipper, missing drawstrings, frayed cuffs. But man was it comfy and warm.

And now it's gone...forever. You see, I couldn't not wear a sweatshirt the morning of the race. It was cold. And I hate to be cold. But then the sun came up and it got kind of warm. (Imagine that, it's Florida.) So I made the difficult decision to let it go somewhere around mile 4. I just couldn't see myself carrying it for another 9 miles or tying it around my tutu.

It wasn't easy. I actually stopped on the side of the road before handing it off to the volunteer. She looked at me like I was nuts. But it was time to move on. In fact, letting go of that sweatshirt seemed like such a metaphor for so many challenges I've faced since I purchased it so many years ago.

I've had to learn to let go of the anger over my MS --still working on this one--over the questions as to why me, over the challenges this disease presents and so many other things. But I'm learning that sometimes you just have to let go of some things -- no matter how comfortable and comforting they are -- and move forward. There is no other choice. After all, that's how we grow, isn't it? So, I guess that only means one thing. I'll just have to find a new favorite sweatshirt. Shopping trip anyone?