Sometimes marriage can feel pretty mundane.
Between all the loads of laundry in life, the bills that need to get paid, and the bedtime stories, it can be hard to make time to hang with my husband and just have fun. Sometimes I feel like we are just skating through life, grasping at thin air to get everything done in 24 hours. Weeks and months pass before we even get a chance to sit down and talk about going on a date.
It can get tough. I cannot remember the last time I got dolled up for a date (surely it was last year!). My husband gets to see me in pajamas more than any other ensemble I own. Most nights I am ready for bed by nine, just minutes after I put my sweet daughter down for bed.
This spring has been especially tough. I had a nasty upper respiratory infection for what seemed like two months. I could barely get out of bed and do the basics of life.
About two weeks ago I just felt so down. I missed the excitement of dating my husband and the thrill of getting ready to see him. I thought back to the days when we talked on the phone until we could barely keep our eyes open, or when the touch of his hand felt like electricity (in a good way) against my skin. I missed the feeling of waiting for him to pick me up and minutes seeming like hours.
This past weekend we went to Zion National Park for him to participate in a race called the Ragnar Trail Relay. To sum it up, a team of 8-10 people commit to running a total of 120 miles in 24 hours on a mountain (each person runs about 14.9 miles… and it is split up throughout the event). No flat street racing. SO not easy! We loaded up our tents and our truck and traveled eight hours to beautiful Utah. At first I was totally bummed I was not participating. I was on baby duty, and hadn’t trained enough to be on the team. Plus, we wanted to save some money. I moped around the first part of the day, feeling so lame, wishing I had joined the event so him and I could have shared something together- adventure.
The first part of the day was lovely. Beautiful weather. His run was awesome. I took my daughter to a playground, watched her ride her tricycle, and went swimming. I watched all the teams chanting and rooting one another on.
Evening came, and so did a huge storm. It rained, and rained… and rained. Four hours later, it was my husbands turn to run 8 miles. It was 10pm. The weather was horrible. The mud was inches deep, and super difficult to walk in. He left. I worried. Not too long after, they called the race due to awful weather. They sent out vehicles to pull people off the mountain due to dangerous weather and conditions. I prayed. Alot. I stood outside, for two hours, as the rain poured down on me. My sweats were soaking wet, my shoes flooded with mud and rain, and my fingers chilled to the bone, at a frigid thirty-something degrees.
But- I didn’t care! The only thing I cared about was seeing my husband cross that finish line.
Determined to be the first face he saw when he crossed the finish line, I kissed my daughter in her tent and left her with good friends as she was asleep. I grabbed a beer and stuck it in my jacket and marched across camp to the finish line to wait for the love of my life to come back. Others were there looking for family members, and slowly people got tired and went to bed. It was almost midnight, and I was still standing there in the rain, waiting.
As I waited for him, all I could think about was how much I loved him. I couldn’t imagine my life without him. I realized how fast things can go wrong. Life is fragile, unpredictable, and uncontrollable.
My worry and heart rate increased. I knew he could make it, but I didn’t want him injured. I just wanted him back, safe and sound. Rescue crews kept coming back, returning with the exhausted and injured.
That is when I saw him. The handsomest man in my world. Soaking wet and covered in mud, he came running across the finish line. I was elated! I ran to him and gave him his victory beer… and in that moment I felt eighteen again.
Adventure is out there. It is real, and you never know when it is going to hit you like a storm.
Learning to trudge through the sludge and mud of life is what all married couples need to be ready for the great and glorious moments that bind us and bring us back together.
I knew I loved my husband before our little adventure, but now I know I love him even more than I thought I did.
And I know that we make a fantastic team. I only hope I will always be on the other end of the finish line, cheering him on, during all the trials and celebrations of life. There is something magical in waiting that makes coming together extra sweet.