Well... that wasn't in the plan

Well… that wasn’t in the plan.

If you would have asked me just over a month ago, how the next two years of my life were going to pan out, I would have told you: 

• get my Boston Qualifying Time
• run Tokyo 2020
• run Boston 2020 (getting my 6-Star medal)
• celebrate by getting pregnant
• have a baby
• move home
• establish a new family near to the Rockies
• go out on a limb with a new do-it-myself job. 

Of course, all presupposing that was to happen with my best friend, partner, and soulmate, Robin. Also of course, fully recognizing that this plan might not exactly happen, I made a contingency baby plan in case I didn’t get my BQ until later in 2019, thus qualifying me for Boston 2021. Robin’s big plan for 2019 was to summit Mount Everest. His further plans were to support me on my marathon journey and next on the list for him was to swim the Channel whilst we were still on this Island.

I guess the universe had another idea. 

Sagarmatha was hungry this year and seemingly claimed a life on each day an aspiring climber made an attempt. On May 25th, 2019, Robin achieved his 2019 goal, unfortunately it was his turn to succumb to the “Goddess of the Sky” at “the Peak of Heaven” as Everest, or Sagarmatha is known to the Nepalese.

Queue a big, sad, heavy sigh.

What happened?! 

I do mean this literally, but not as much as I mean it figuratively in a questioning-the-universe sense. I’m not here to decode the former to you, as there are questions we will never be able to  factually answer. I can sit and create theories all day long, but that won’t serve me, nor fellow man. I am also not sweeping this event under the carpet, choosing to revisit Robin’s created shared-memories as they do offer support in a positive way. Oh, and with the passing of your partner when they were more than the average man, comes another Everest of paperwork to decode- I couldn’t responsibly run away if I tried.

Why am I writing/ sharing with you then?

A few reasons: writing is somewhat cathartic for me, I want to put my gratitude out to the world, and I want those of you who know me to know that I AM okay.

I want to start by being grateful for everyone in my life and saying the biggest, heartfelt thank you.

Thank you to my family who were there for me in a heartbeat- on the phone, and in person. Reasons why to save up all of your airline points- so you can get your sisters shipped out here- stat! In times of great adversity, it’s comforting to be with those who really know and get you. There are only 3 people in my life who do… Leanna, Nadia, and Robin. My sisters know… they know when I need a moment, they know when I need a glass of wine, they know when I need to go for a run, they know when I need the house tidied. They didn’t ask. They just did. They did everything I possibly needed, including bringing light when we were all hurting inside. Bringing light, just as Robin did, too.

Thank you to Robin's family, my extended family and close friends. You’ve been with me emotionally. You’ve spent time with me (in person and virtually), sending me your support and deep compassion. Thank you to those who have stopped by. Thank you to those who sent video messages. Thank you to those who have cooked for me, sent flowers, and offered up meaningful support in the form of running, climbing, or a good ol’ chat. I can’t even convey the gratitude I have towards those of you who took the extra moments to share their feelings with me; not only in the instant I became bereaved, but also continuously. 

Thank you to everyone else, literally in the world, friends, colleagues, and acquaintances of me AND of Robin who took the time to send their condolences, support, and kind memories. These moments that you shared with Robin, and have now shared with me and his family are so touching. For a man who self-declared as a hermit more often than you might think, you would never have guessed it from the outpouring of support we have received.

All of this support is as overwhelming to me as the event itself. Perhaps as I am usually an emotional robot that doesn’t quite feel as deeply as those around her; perhaps as I would be the one that doesn’t know what to say to someone like me and might refrain. To these last people in my life that I know, thank you- Thank you for thinking of me. Your support is still felt (this robot is a bit broken these days) and recognized.

…

How have I been doing? Processing?

Day-by-day, as cliche as that is. Wanting to, but being cognisant, of making major life decisions. I’ve been happy. I’ve been sad. Pensive, patient, impatient, longing, heartbroken, hopeful. I’ve been all of the emotions in the past month. In the moment that I found out, I felt pure disbelief. It was another set of words on a page that were similar to the words on a page I had been reading each day previously. Numb. As the day went on, and calls, messages, and requests for interviews came in, I remained numb. I heard others crying, but shed few tears myself. My brain went into it’s system-default logistician mode. I had practical matters consuming 80% of the CPU, 10% for basic living functions, and 10% for emotional processing mostly fuelled by clinging to a t-shirt that smelled of Robin. The person I wanted most to heal me with his hug was gone. The smell of his t-shirt was the closest I could get to feeling safe in his arms. One of the reasons why I valued Robin so much was because he always made me feel safe and looked-after. 

Days go by, as do the various stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance), and unlike the suggested cycle of this framework, I was (and am) experiencing aspects of these stages in all sorts of levels and orders. In time I might find that they are generally lived out in the theme of the framework; however, until now, I get bouts of each. Denial being the most amusing, mostly because it’s funny (as a rational being) where your brain goes ie:

• One week later: Maybe Robin will do a Beck Weathers and make his way down the mountain?
• Two weeks later: Maybe this was one of those jokes where Robin crosses the line and doesn’t know he has and he will show up at his memorial to make sure we did a good job?
• Three weeks later: Maybe David Blaine will bring Robin back from the dead?

Yeah- all completely irrational and somewhat amusing. I must say though, these feelings of denial have pretty much dried up, which painfully is opening room for depression. Depression feeling more like periods of heavy sadness. The sadness that I wasn’t feeling in the first two weeks, whilst many people warned me that the hard times were yet to come. Okay, they’re here, and it looks like I am living the general framework in the end. Acceptance. Lol!

Don’t be worried about me, though. If sadness is the strongest emotion I am currently feeling, it is not the most frequently expressed emotion, or state rather. 

I am okay. Genuinely.

And not in the: “i’m fine” keeping-up-appearances way.

Okay, I’m not ready to go back to my day-job as of yet (referring to the Everest mountain of paperwork I’ve inherited), but mostly because I am grateful to be alive! I am alive! I have a life to live! The thing I look forward to the most each day is how I am going to use my body. The milestones on my goal list don’t actually need to change (except for the baby goal, but even that I could buy if I really wanted to be a stickler). Those who preach that exercise is good for your mental wellbeing are right. As well, Robin would have abhorred me sitting on my butt getting into a downward spiral of inactivity and latency. Your spirit lives on, good Sir. It always will inside of me. That was a part of our kindred flame: we are Achievers! Thank you for enabling me to pursue my deep-rooted dreams and aspirations. 

In the meantime, I still wake each morning with a brief paralysation and recognition of the sadness that I hold with the loss of my partner-in-crime, get my ass out of bed, pass much time each day learning my new role as an executor of Robin’s wishes, shake my ass outside or in the gym (reference to Joseph McClendon III), pay respect to our memories created with Robin, work on my future, un-wine-d, and look at a very few special moments as I try to trigger dreams of Robin whilst I rest. 
See… I am okay. It doesn’t mean you should stop calling, though ;-)

He will always be on my shoulder.