A Rainbow Run

A week ago, my spirit soared to the mountaintops.

When I was a teenager, I discovered that I really enjoyed running. I ran cross country and track, and over the years, it has been the form of exercise that I always return to, even if I’ve taken a sabbatical every once in a while. I have come to understand that it is simply a therapy that helps me keep my life in order, by giving me a discipline and an enforced quiet solitude for processing my thoughts of the day.

I’ve never been concerned about being particularly fast or competitive, but I’ve always been intrigued by the distance of the marathon, the 26.2 mile holy grail of the running community. Since my children arrived, I have run two half-marathons, and achieved my only goal- to feel strong and well-trained. But I wasn’t completely convinced my life or my body had a marathon in it.

When our baby Lachlan headed off to full-day kindergarten this year (sniff- sniff!), I knew that it was now or never to give it a try. If I couldn’t figure out how to train with all three kids in school fulltime, and no work outside the home yet, I knew it would never happen.

While I would have loved to run the Sydney Marathon because of our affection for our adopted home, the only marathon that fit around our travel schedule this year was Canberra. Canberra is the capital of Australia (I know there are more than a few of you out there living outside of Australia, like a friend who will remain nameless, who believe that the capital is Melbourne or Sydney...) and like Washington DC was a planned city. Upon federation of the Australian colonies, Canberra was chosen as the site for the new capital. It was planned to be a city with large bands of green space, wide boulevards lined with large buildings, formal parks and water features, including the central feature of a large lake.

Canberra was completely panned by Bill Bryson in his travel book In A Sunburned Country, so we purposely avoided it during our first trip here, even though it is only 3 1/2 hours southwest of Sydney. What a shame! We have now discovered that it is a beautiful city full of amazing museums (Questacon puts any science museum I’ve ever visited to shame, and the Australian War Memorial Museum is the most powerful commemoration to the sacrifice of war we’ve ever experienced), great restaurants and miles and miles of family-friendly bike paths.

Last April, we made a family trip to Canberra during the April school holidays. But it was an angst-filled trip, as my mother was in the last days of her life. While Rick kept the kids occupied at the sights, I spent hours on the phone with my Dad and sister, agonizing over the decision not to return home until after she died, looking into travel arrangements and saying my final farewell to her. It was an excruciating time. As I trained, it occurred to me that the return to Canberra, at the exact same time of year, could be very therapeutic.

The girls biking in Canberra last year.

The race started at 7am on a Sunday morning. I must admit that in the days leading up to the race, my nerves were frazzled in anticipation, but by Saturday, I was starting to calm down, ready to just enjoy some time with my family. Saturday afternoon we drove down, checked out the route (yay- flat, flat, flat!), and had a carb-filled meal at our favourite Italian restaurant.

On Sunday morning, I rose before the crack of dawn with butterflies in my stomach and got myself moving- by daybreak, the predicted rain clouds were starting to roll in. As I looked out the window before I headed out for my walk from our hotel to the starting line, a rainbow appeared in the sky. My lingering doubts immediately disappeared, and were replaced with a sense of joy and peace, as I knew that my mother was smiling her love, enthusiasm and encouragement on me. A year earlier, minutes before Dad and Katherine phoned me to tell me of Mom’s death, I had experienced an inexplicable urge to sing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” to comfort a grieving Claire, and then a rainbow appeared in the sky around the time of their call.

As I walked to the start, the image of the full rainbow embraced me, and was a strong encouraging presence throughout the race, urging me on. For the first 6 mile loop, we circled up around Parliament House. We then ran over a bridge across the lake and headed west, looped back and over another bridge, past my very vocal and soggy cheering section (Rick is famous around these parts for his enthusiastic and booming cheering at the girls’ soccer games!), before heading out for another loop. Unbelievably, I felt strong the entire way, never hitting a wall or feeling too exhausted to move on. I crossed the finish line in 4 hours and 10 minutes, the very best time I could have hoped for, feeling incredibly sore but strong and absolutely ecstatic.

We were all relieved to find that I still had enough energy to spend the afternoon at the National Museum of Australia before we drove back to Sydney. It happened to be the one day for a free Irish festival highlighting the museum’s “Irish in Australia” exhibit, complete with live music and dancing and free entry to the exhibit. The mood was incredibly celebratory and a perfect top-off for the day.

And wouldn't you know, starting this Sunday, I'll be accompanying my Dad on a trip to Ireland, a place that he and Mom had always wanted to see. We'll keep an eye out for rainbows....