Lately I have tried to keep much talk of GCB off of here. It has gotten to where once I start blathering on about him, it’s difficult to stop, and then this space turns into a sappy, goopy mess. I’ll spare you.
When it comes to my running though, I have an incredibly solid support system, for which I am very grateful. A lot of times, it’s a lot of words connecting me to people, but not so with GCB.
He is here to wipe away the tears I can’t stop when it’s been a rough run or when I’m frustrated and struggling. He’s here to help massage out super sore muscles. He’s the one who will come running with me, even if he’s already played hockey that day, just because it’s dark and I’d rather not go alone.
He’s been convinced to run multiple races with me, and it’s never been the running as a cause of complaint (hey, broken toe during Tough Mudder).
He also understands exactly how much I love running, as he feels the same way about hockey. He’s aware of what kind of endorphin boost it always gives me, and he doesn’t hesitate to shove me out the door when I’m waffling about going.
I knew within a week of meeting him that he was going to be an important person in my life when he hung out on a half marathon course for nearly four hours with my best friend (who he’d never met) just so he could give me beer when I ran by and see me for not even two full minutes.
His excitement about my races makes me more excited. He’s thrilled for me when I do well, and lets me be sad when I’m not so happy about things.
I cannot imagine having anyone else by my side for every single adventure to come, running and otherwise.
I am so stupidly lucky to have him.
Mile sixteen is for him.
All I have to say is, “awwwww” because it’s true.