When my alarm went off this morning I quickly silenced it and went back to bed. I was not trudging to the gym at 5:30 today. I would sleep until my body was ready to wake up and face the day. Deep inside, I knew it was time. Regardless how ready I thought I was and how hard her illness had been on my family, I wasn’t ready for to face the reality that my grandmother would most likely pas by morning.
I slept until 7:30 this morning still tired and sore from emotion. I just kept waiting for the phone call from my parents.
It never came.
Instead, while I was on the phone with my mother, over 1200 miles away, the nursing home called my home.
"She passed away this morning, peacefully, holding onto the bear your daughter gave her."
That is all I needed to know.
Still filled with emotions, yet unable to really talk about them, I packed my suitcase this morning and focused my attention on work. I avoided phone calls as I knew I couldn’t complete a single sentence. I worked from the comfort of my bed, emptying my inbox, responding to emails, and posting my out of office message.
Finally around 11 I realized I needed to get out of the house. I needed to see the sunshine and blue sky. I laced up my shoes, threw on a jacket, and ran.
I ran for 45 minutes, thinking about everything, waving at the people I passed, and cried. I cried the entire time, just letting the emotions go and the love for her flow. I thought about what I’ll say on Saturday at her memorial. I remembered the last time I saw her.
I now understand what people mean when they say running is cathartic. Those 45 minutes were the best run I’ve ever experienced. I kept a 9:04 pace, far faster than normal, while breaking every traffic rule as I ran down the bike lane of 2nd Avenue towards SoHo.
She was with me, looking down on me, every step of the way. 
