This Girl...
So there I was, at the end of my second quarter of college, about to go on spring break with Campus Crusade for Christ (Now known as Cru) Spring quarter registration had come and gone, and I had signed up for a class in American Sign Language, (ASL) because of the large deaf population on campus.
I go to meet up with the group, to leave for the airport, and I see everyone else has two carry-on bags, while I only have one. It had been a bit since I flew. So I asked the first person I saw who seemed outgoing, if we could have two, and she said yes, then proceeded to show me how to properly compress them by jumping on them. I went and grabbed another bag.
By the time I got back, we were just leaving for the airport. I wanted to thank this girl for telling me that, but it seemed like she didn't hear me. One of the other students going on the trip got her attention, and I noticed a small flesh-coloured piece of plastic behind one of her ears. This was odd, because she spoke well for someone wearing an implant. I didn't think much of it at the time.
We got to the airport early, and went through security without any problems. As we were supposed to, we had arrived early, so someone broke out a deck of cards and we started to play. That's when I noticed that this girl really was hard of hearing. Except, apparently, to me. She seemed to understand me just fine, while she'd struggle with other people.
We played cards for the hour or so before our flight, then boarded the plane, and due to our flight schedule, I didn't see this girl again until we landed in Florida. We were waiting for some checked baggage at the carousel, and this girl saw the sign that said "Don't climb on the carousel. " She promptly went and climbed on and pretended to be getting eaten by the baggage gate. She hopped off just before the baggage started to come out, and then we went to our separate cars for the three-hour journey to the hotel.
It was close to 1 or 2am by the time we got there, so we all checked in and went right to bed. The next morning, the whole group met up to go to the morning session, and this girl was there. I started talking to the interpreters, one of whom was my roommate for the week, and told them that I was going to be starting an ASL course in the spring. This girl was following the conversation and immediately offered to help me learn sign, something she had only done recently. I accepted.
As the week progressed, I started hanging out with this girl more and more. I found out that she was late-deafened at the age of 19 (Which I thought was weird because she couldn't be more than 18.) due to some genetic disorder called "neu-ro-fi-bro-ma-to-sis, typetwo." (Which I would learn more about later) This kinda struck me because I had only just celebrated my 19th birthday, and tried to think of how my life would be different without sound. I found out later that week that she was actually 21.
Thursday night, there was a speaker who gave a really good message on being a warrior for God. He talked about how we had to completely surrender everything to Him in order for us to fulfill our calling. I did, and that included my then-girlfriend, and my major in college. After the session, I was looking around at all the audio and video stuff that was going on, and thought, "Boy, I think I could do something with this if I switch to telecommunications engineering technology. I don't really like all the coding I have to do for computer anyway."
We came back after a week in Panama City Beach, and I had really formed a relationship with this girl. While there were two interpreters on the trip, there were also several deaf students who used ASL as their primary communication. This girl wanted to use voice, and practice hearing with her "super-ear." She could also understand my voice very well, for reasons I didn't know at that point. So instead of an interpreter, I spent the whole week with her repeating things that needed to be said or just talking, while she'd teach me signs and fingerspelling.
I also found out in those first few weeks that this girl had a weird obsession with this thing called "running." I had participated in indoor track in high school, but I was a shot-putter. My running was minimal. In soccer, I played goalie. In lacrosse, I sat the bench. My sport was swimming, and I had lost it my senior year of high school to chlorine-induced asthma. I thought maybe someday I'd do a triathlon, because I could still open-water swim just fine, and I rode my bike everywhere. It was just that third part, that "running" that confused me.
During the spring quarter, this girl took me to No Voice Zone, where I continued to learn and practice ASL. Through that, I found out about a weekend event between RIT and Galladuet, and a party that was hosted at the end of it. I went, and made some chainmail bracelets, because I was bored. I met this one guy there who was quite interested in the chainmail, and bought a few of the ones I had.
Shortly after, spring quarter ended, and the summer started. This girl drove all the way to Colorado by herself, and posted lots of pictures on facebook, of which I was very jealous. During the summer break, I ended up breaking up with my then-girlfriend, because I knew I had to, since God had told me to 3 months prior. A month and a half later, she was nearly killed in a car accident and through that we became close friends and remain so to this day.
While that was happening, this girl that I had met on spring break was still in Colorado, and I was working at a camp in Rome, NY, as a lifeguard. The rest of the summer flew by, and before I knew it I was back in school in September. When I got back, this girl invited me to go to running club with her. What's running club? I mean, do people actually enjoy running together? Apparently they did, and soon I was racing nearly every weekend at some 5k or other race. My first race was a XC fundraising run at a local high school. I won my age group by default, I think. This girl, and another one of our friends from running club, also did.
As fall quarter progressed, I started learning more about this "NF2" and all the problems it had caused for this girl, and I found out about this endurance-racing team that supports research that she was on. I learned about what the tumors can do to someone, I learned a little bit about what it's like to live with, and I learned that no matter what life throws at you, it's always your choice to stay beaten down, or get back up.
One day, I encountered the guy who had been so interested in the chainmail while at a deaf event with this girl. The next day, this girl and I were part of a 6-pack of Coor's Light that ran a 5k for Halloween. After I got back that night, I got a text from the guy I had met saying he thought it was so cute to see me with my girlfriend. I thought it was funny, since we weren't "officially" "dating" at that point, so I texted this girl. Shortly after I sent that text, I had a relationship request on facebook, which I guess technically makes it "official."
Throughout fall and into winter, I found out that this girl really loved to do marathons and distance running. Again, I found it weird, since I equate distance running with pain and suffering. (Still do, actually.) But before I knew it, I was running races during the winter. And the races were getting longer, first 4 miles, then 5, and then somehow on my 20th birthday, this girl suckered me into running 8 miles.
It was now spring break of my second year at school. This time, I went to visit her parents down in Atlanta, and ended up doing a 17-mile trail run all over a mountain on that break. Again, I'm not sure how that happened. All I know is I sprained my ankle.
We were only able to stay half of break week in Atlanta, so we came back to NY to visit my parents. And got into a minor car accident on the way home. That's a great way to have your girlfriend meet your parents: "Hi mom and dad, this girl is coming to visit and we got into an accident." No injuries, though. Just a fair bit of damage to my van. Not three days later, we decided to go for a snowshoe run at a local park and found ourselves at the open event for snowshoe nationals. We ran it, and rather enjoyed it, since it was a completely different experience to winter road racing.
Spring quarter came and went, a few more races here and there, I almost got pulled into running a half marathon on Long Island, but I managed to avoid that somehow. This girl and I decided to work at the same camp that summer, I would teach hockey, she would teach arts and crafts.
But a few weeks before we were to start that job, this girl decided to fall out of her bed and wind up in the hospital for 4 days during finals week. I was there as much as I could be, and I made her food and made sure she felt OK. It was at this point that her mother said to me "You're acting like a married couple right now." And I realized that was true, and I started praying about that idea.
After the bed stunt, we went to work at the camp. That had it's ups and downs, but for the most part, we enjoyed it. We had the same days and evenings off, and spent most of our free time together. After that summer, I decided to try doing an olympic distance triathlon on my mountain bike, since I was now able to run 10k at once. I chose an inaugural event at the same lake where I had worked the previous summer, while this girl was in Colorado.
I immediately got hooked on triathlons, for some reason that still escapes me. I then found out about a half-ironman in Syracuse that went, almost literally, right by my house. I said I wanted to do it next year. This girl said she'd do it too, even though she had no balance nerves, had a large tumor in her leg, wasn't supposed to open-water swim, and wasn't supposed to be able to ride a bike. I said "fine, whatever," half thinking that she wouldn't do it.
During that winter, I kinda fell out of the running that I had been involved in the previous year. I had started curling more actively, and most of my tournaments conflicted with winter races. This girl kept doing subzero winter races, despite growing up in Atlanta, Georgia. This spring break, she went back home, and I visited my grandmother in Florida.
Spring of my third year. (2011) I got a co-op back home for spring and summer, while this girl, who changed her major from interior design to multidisciplinary studies, took a few classes. During the co-op, one night while I was out of town in a motel, I called this girl's dad and asked for his blessing, as I was planning on proposing to her relatively soon.
Every weekend for two quarters, either she would come and visit me in Syracuse, or I would drive to Rochester to visit her. One of these weekends, I drove to Rochester and we did a trail marathon, even though I had told her I'd never do one. Another weekend, I drove to Rochester and we were going to do our first triathlon together. However, the swim got canceled, so it was a duathlon. Her real first triathlon would be the next weekend.
July 31st, 2011. It was 5 am, when we woke up to go to the same triathlon I had done a year before. It was at a lake where I had spent part of my summer every year for my whole life. It was the lake where I worked as a lifeguard for 6 years. It was the lake where I had done my first triathlon in 2010. It was the lake where she would do her first triathlon in 2011. My little sister came to watch and take pictures of us "racing."
I finished the tri in two hours, 38 minutes. My sister had been holding a small wooden box the whole time. In it was a ring. A ring meant for this girl. 26 minutes after I finished, I saw her running toward the finish line. I stood in the finish area with my hands behind my back. When she crossed the line, I gave her a hug, and said: "I have something to ask you..." To which she replied "You're supposed to be on one knee!" So I dropped to one knee, pulled out the ring box, and asked her if she'd marry me.
She said yes.
And then this girl told me that I was supposed to put the ring on her finger. I did. A few minutes later, the race director announced our finish-line engagement. We made (almost) all the compulsory phone calls, to share with our family, and then posted it on facebook.
Since it was the end of the summer, I was done with my co-op, she was almost done with her classes, I went for a little road trip to New Hampshire to visit some friends and family while she went back home to show her new hardware to her family. During my visit to NH, I did my first half-ironman triathlon, and enjoyed it immensely, other than the fact that I felt sick for the whole run.
A month later, this girl and I did our first race as an engaged couple. It was a half ironman. In Syracuse. My second, her first. We both finished, with both our families cheering us on. It was a wonderful feeling.
This girl is Anne Shigley. No, you can't have her, no matter how awesome you think she is after reading this. Anne's going to be mine (and God's) until one of us dies. How did I get so lucky? Anne, I love you. I never would have been able to race an Ironman without you nagging me to run, I never would have done a trail marathon, or a triathlon. We've had our ups and downs, but I'm always amazed by your drive and motivation, and that's one of the reasons I love you. I never would have become as proficient at ASL as I am if you hadn't shown me NVZ. And I may very well have ended up just another computer-game playing, single, nerdy, RIT student if it wasn't for you. NF sucks. It's cost you a lot that you valued. But if it wasn't for NF, I wouldn't have met you. I would have a different outlook on life. And I love you just the way you are. You're beautiful, loving, and compassionate, if a bit stubborn at times. (Although the tumors can go take a hike, I don't like them.) How does a southern-runner girl get engaged to an "eskimo-hockey-playing-canadian-boy?" I'll never know, but what I do know is that it's a match made in heaven. <3
