'Just Keep Running. Just Keep Running'

When Stephanie Lubin-Levy was 4 years old, she lost her father to a sudden massive heart attack, an event which opened her eyes to life's unpredictable nature at a very early age. Her 2014 Boston Marathon run will be the second time she attempts to complete the 26.2 mile journey –last year, she was still running when the bombs went off at the finish line, reminding her once again of the fragility and unpredictability of life. Stephanie runs on behalf of The Children's Room, a non-profit center for grieving children.

During the long hours of training I chant this mantra every time my physical exhaustion threatens to overtake my mental determination. Switch "running" with "living" and you have the mantra necessary to continue living after the death of a loved one. I should know –I've been a volunteer at The Children's Room, a non-profit center for grieving children, for six years now. But I also know this all too well, because I am a part of the same club as many of the kids who enter The Children's Room –the dead parents' club.

When I was four years old, my father died of a sudden massive heart attack, leaving behind a young family that included me, my six-year-old brother, and my mom, who was pregnant with my sister. At a young age I was forced to recognize the fragility of life, and to find hope in a bleak situation.

The Children's Room did not exist at the time, so my family and I were left to wade through the waters of our grief alone. There were few opportunities to meet fellow children with similar loss stories, and for many years I thought I was the only one who had experienced this type of loss, because all my friends had two living parents. Although I have no memory of that time or of my dad, volunteering at The Children's Room has helped me to cherish stories and pictures, and to recognize how my early loss continues to shape me.

When I talk about my work at The Children's Room I often hear the response, "That must be so depressing." I always answer that it's actually quite uplifting. The children and families I work with are amazingly resilient and are my true inspiration for running. Of course I think of my dad while training, but when the miles get really tough I focus on the kids I work with, whose compassion for each other gives me the strength to power through on challenging runs. I chose to run the marathon in 2013 and again in 2014, because while I can't begin to give back to The Children's Room for everything that I have gained emotionally from my time as a volunteer, I hope to try.

In a testament to my own strong-willed determination –a relic of the strength I gained through my grief journey –when the marathon was stopped last year, I followed my personal mantra, and "just kept running." Having the benefit of being a little behind the pack, and a functioning GPS watch, I was able to turn around and run home to complete 26.2 miles. In our driveway, my family greeted me with my very own finish line, complete with winner's tape made from toilet paper, a medal of Styrofoam and beads, flowers, and a pedestal. From the loss of my father, my family has learned to make the best of a bad situation, and my personal finish line is one of many examples. I hope that the kids I work with will one day have their very own experience of finding their strength and completing something they never thought possible, regardless of the conditions.

One of my favorite stories from The Children's Room happened during our first meeting after the marathon. A little girl from my group looked up at me and, in the most innocent and heart-felt way, said "thank you for running the marathon for us." To her, the "us" was probably her family, but to me the "us "is all of us who lost parents or other loved ones too young. The "us" is the reason I found the strength to run a marathon in the first place and the reason I'm back this year to finish what I started.

Training for and running a marathon is a fitting metaphor for grief. Both require immense amounts of physical and mental strength. Sometimes you feel hopeful and other times you're ready to quit. But in the end, if you ride the waves and push forward you will come through on the other side a stronger person, and hopefully cross the finish line.

Runners who had reached the halfway point before the marathon was stopped in 2013 are not required to fundraise this year, but Stephanie has chosen once again to raise money for The Children's Room. The Children's Room offers services free of charge and for this reason, individual fundraising and donors are critical to its survival and growth.

Please consider supporting Stephanie's run and a great cause by visiting her Crowdrise page.

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