Kelley Irwin

One day in Oct (2024), I realized grief has no mercy so I took up speed walking. I needed to move my feet as I processed the feelings that enveloped me.

I’m a planner by nature. I like the strategy, the goals, the roadmap, the framework. Give me a problem and I’ll break it down into manageable pieces and work the plan and drive to success. This has served me well in life, both professionally and personally.

Until now. It had been 23 months since we received a formal medical diagnosis of dementia for my Dad. While I didn’t know on this day in October my dear Dad would take his last breath 5 weeks later, I did know we had witnessed a marked change in his abilities. I didn’t have a plan.

The tears appeared as surprise guests when I didn’t expect them – seeing a beautiful skyline from an airplane, watching an NFL game end with an upset, and preparing to take the stage for a speech. Things Dad would love to hear about. Not really crying, but tears popped out and left a trail.

I randomly decided to take up speed walking which I have since learned is actually called racewalking. (And there are shoes that help your technique.) I’m aware I look funny as I head out the front door and hit my stride. I wave to the neighbors and anyone I pass, but I can’t stop to talk as I’m moving quickly and breathing hard.

The grief still surprises me and at times can bring me to my knees. Once I’m ready to move again, I head out for my walk. I’m 70 days in. It helps.