Yesterday was the eighth day since Tyler's death. For me, acceptance seems to have come. Am I still heartbroken? Not any less than I was on day one. Do I still love and miss Tyler? Even more than I ever have. But I don't find myself getting upset by it. Sometimes, I wish I could still curl up in bed and cry my eyes out, but it seems the time for that has passed... for now. I'm still afraid that I will go to family events expecting to see Tyler there. I even think about texting or calling him to see how he's doing, and that's when I remember.
Yesterday was also the first day of training for me and my best friend Kayla. I have chosen to follow the Couch-to-5K Running Plan to get ready for the Flying Pig Marathon next year. It starts off by having you jog for sixty seconds three times a day, three times a week.
The first jog was awful. For being so on-the-go and on my feet so much, I am an incredibly out of shape girl! It took over an hour for my stomach to settle. Nausea is my second most hated feeling, so I was pretty discouraged by it. But considering the circumstances, I knew I needed to keep going. Tyler suffered, and Jesus suffered on the cross, so I can endure a little tummy upset for them. The second jog was not as bad. My stomach only hurt a little. The third jog was the best of the three. There was no stomach ache, and I did not feel totally exhausted afterwards...
... but maybe the jogs were the reason I fell asleep at 8:30 last night. Hmmm.
361 days and counting.
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