Husband and I dated forEVER. It got to the point where, every gift giving holiday, I would hope for the ring. Then, when it didn't come...I'd be all bummed out:( Don't get me wrong, Husband wasn't a bad guy...he was just a guy, ya know...clueless.
He took me to St. Barts on my Birthday...no ring. We ate at an insanely expensive restaurant on my 30th...no ring. Christmas' came and went...no ring. I would say the last three years of the eight year relationship...I. WANTED. A. RING.
Well, you guessed it...instead of a ring, he dumped me:O I. WAS. A. MESS! So much of a mess, that I packed up my apartment, took a leave of absence from my trading gig, threw my cat in my Moms car, and moved my butt to Denver to live with the Bro for a while.
I know some folks drown themselves in Ben & Jerry's after a big break up...me, I ran up mountains. I joined the craziest group of runners I've ever met. So crazy, that we were jumping fences of high school tracks at 5am to run laps! Seriously...ask me to tell you the story about the 20 miler double back up a canyon...really.
I'm out in Denver beating myself into a running stupor...when who should fly out and drop the Tiffany's ring on me...you guessed it...Husband...but that is NOT the happy ending (shaking my head).
No sooner did he get back on the plane and land in Chicago (I stayed in Denver to pack up)...did he call me and say "I can't go through with it." Hello mess! I was a big 'ole bucket of messity, mess, mess, mess. I had just bought all of the Bride magazines to start looking at dresses. I kid you not...I walked outside...an tossed all of them in the dumpster outside The Bro's pad. Oh, what a sad cat I was...
You with me so far? I waited for a ring...got dumped...moved to Denver...got proposed to...then got dumped again. Yeah, you could say it was a long month:P
ALL I did that summer was run. I ran up mountains, I ran down mountains, I did sprints on tracks, I ran in downtown Denver, I ran on trails with Olympic athletes (talk about feeling slow)...My theory has always been pick one and work on it (meaning personal, professional, or physical). My personal life was shattered, my professional life was on hold...I felt like all I could control was physical...and it's all I did. I became a marathon training machine.
Months went by, and I had to get back to Chicago to run the big race. I packed up and made tracks to the big city. I will never forget how I felt driving up Lake Shore Drive heading to my apartment...coming home was a great feeling. The city that was the mess I had to run from...now just felt like home.
I moved on with my life when I got back....ran my race (rocked it)...dated (that was bizarre). Deep down inside, I remember waiting outside my apartment for nameless dates and comparing them all to Husband. I never wanted to admit to myself I was doing it...but I was (made me so mad).
One thing about Chicago that always amazes me, you NEVER run into people. I kid you not, I lived blocks away from Husband...and we never ran into each other. Crazy...right?
I'd say a good six months had gone by since the big break up. I was dating a couple guys (one a crazy ex boyfriend from college, the other an Italian guy who spent half his time in Chicago). Truth is...I was just dating to be dating. I didn't want to be bitter dumped girl (which is what I was:P)
Who do I see one cold day in December, coming right towards me, on the running path? Husband. That man...my heart skipped...
Good Lord this story is long! Come back tom. and I'll finish it up for you. Oh, and the count on the Flash Dance is over 40!!! We are so a go for Friday:O