Hi Folks!
I have truly enjoyed being able to blog and get everyone hyped for the Black Girls Run! Sweat With Your Sole Race and Conference Weekend. It is my hope that everyone who was able to participate enjoyed every experience, from the classes to the dinner, to the phenomenal races! I was really looking forward to meeting new faces, particularly those who I've communicated with on Facebook. Even though I've never met many of you, I already felt a connection because many of us have similar journeys in regards to fitness and weight loss. We've cheered each other on, made positive comments about each others before and after pictures, and encouraged each other when someone thought they couldn't make it one more mile.
I wanted to write to you all today, well, really for a selfish reason. I needed some self help, some therapy for my soul. The last three weeks have been the hardest of my life. I've tried to hold everything together, but I couldn't. My father fell very ill suddenly. He got a rare type of lymphoma which by the time they found out what it was it was at stage 3. It would have been treatable, but he had several complications, and his organs started to shut down. My family and I had to make the difficult decision to take him off life support. And I watched him...slip away...
I loved my Dad. He wasn't a conventional father. He was his own man and he made a lot of mistakes in his life. However, the last two years or so, he really dedicated his life to helping others and building his relationship with God. I really started to appreciate him more in my adult years because he was able to be more candid with me about his life. I relished his relationship with my son, his best friend. I admired how he loved people. He had a tough exterior, but a soft heart.
My Dad doted on me as his daughter my whole life. Even though most of my teenage and adult life I was overweight, he always made me feel pretty, but he encouraged me to try to live a healthier lifestyle(although it didn't help that my Dad was an excellent cook, and I always had request for certain meals whenever I came home to Jacksonville to visit, and he always obliged).
He was very proud that I had begun to run. Finally, I showed evidence that I had some type of athletic ability, which made up for the fact that I wasn't born the little boy they thought I would be. I enjoyed talking with him about my races, and although he was concerned for my safety, he never told me to stop. I was brought to tears by so many heartfelt messages from you all who were aware of what was going on with me, and was moved by my Sunday running groups' picture at the race. The Union County ladies have made me so proud! Don't stop now ladies, keep it up! You all have come so far!
As I was preparing my Dad's obituary, I cried and laughed, and cried some more. I know that it will be some time before I will feel some kind of relief from this pain in my heart. Although I haven't run since before Labor Day, I know that I have to get back to it. My Dad would want me to. Running towards peace is the soul journey that I must take...
Thank you all for reading my blog. Until next year ladies! This is dedicated to the mighty women of Black Girls Run!, and to my Dad, Anthony G. Purdy(7/7/51-9/4/13)
