Race Recap, My Style

Two weeks ago I was packing frantically for San Diego. Making checklists. And checklists for those lists. Double checking...shoes, GPS watch, running clothes, fuel belt.

And, and, and.

Little did I know what was going to happen to me three days later. I knew that I was going to run, or attempt to run, 13.1 miles. I knew that I had to get up at 3:30 am. I knew that it was going to be grueling.

What I didn't realize was how this race was going to affect me, as a person. How it would touch my heart and my spirit in so many ways that I didn't think running a race could. Yeah, it was a lot about running, but even more? It was about being part of something greater than myself, knowing that I'd played a part in an event that was bringing good to a lot of lives.

While I could do a play by play of how much it hurt, or what each mile was like, I want to actually talk about parts of the race that really moved me, emotionally. Cause there were a lot. Christy and I decided to pace together, and for me, that was so incredible. To share so many things with someone over a physically challenging course is something that I will always treasure. And I'm glad she's a sap like me - there were many times we were crying while we were running. At one point, Christy said she was hyperventilating from crying. Running and crying do not combine well. But there were so many moments:

• Running by men in the military who were SERVING US WATER. Oh, my goodness. They already do so much. Them standing there, handing us those little cups? Seriously, that really got me.
• On the freeway stretch, we ran by a little person. She was maybe up to my waist, her legs were bowed, and running looked painful for her. But there she was, pushing her limits. I mean, how can I EVER complain when someone with the physical challenges she has is running a 1/2 marathon?
  
• Passing a woman who had clearly done chemo recently. Her hair was starting to come back in, downy and soft. She was walking, head held high, with a shirt that exclaimed 'SURVIVOR.'
• The blind woman, walking the half, and I'm pretty sure she was on her own. She was using a cane, feeling her way along the pavement. She was small and her shirt read 'Little Giant'. When someone who literally is missing one of her senses can get herself out there and do a half...well, that's pretty freaking amazing.
• All the supporters lining the route. A sea of purple. I could not have asked for better motivation than people yelling 'GO TEAM' and high fiving as I passed.
  
• Whenever we hit a hill, I'd say 'WE OWN THIS HILL.' I'm sure that didn't get old (ha ha).
  
• At mile 12, when I was running out of gas, I looked to my left and out of nowhere, I saw the mom of one of my high school friends. She is a Team in Training coach. She gave me a hug and ran with me for a little bit, and I so needed that.
  
• Crossing the finish line with (okay, almost with, she beat me by a second) with Christy. What an incredible experience to share! Half mary sisters for life, girlfriend!

• Celebrating afterwards with all my girls from Team Shrinking Jeans. So amazing to get to see everyone in real life. They're all in my heart forever.

So I guess that's not a traditional race recap, but out of everything, these are the things that stick with me. Not the pain, not the damned slanted freeway (okay, that sucked), not the heinously disgusting porta-johns and how gross runners are with their pooping. Not how I thought I lost my driver's license through the entire race (thanks again, Christy, for talking me down) only to find it in my checked bag at the end. Not Christy forgetting sunscreen and having to holler 'SUNSCREEN?' at every TNT coach on the route.

Not the guy who ran in Batman briefs. Okay, maybe that.

When I signed up with Team in Training, I was thinking, yeah, I'll train for and run a 1/2 marathon. That's awesome.

And it was.

But I didn't bargain for how I'd feel differently inside, how this would change me. For the better, I think.

GO TEAM!

We Ran. We Ate. We Drank. We Cut Hair. (Texas, Part II)

I fell behind in my Texas posts, but I'm BACK. On to day two:

After falling asleep listening to the craziest thunderstorm I've ever witnessed (and listening to Christy and Lisa yelling 'STRIKE' in the next room when thunder struck), I awoke to a bright and beautiful, albeit, VERYEFFINGEARLY Saturday morning. By early I mean 6:15 Texas time and 4:15 Washington time. Yes, that's A.M. There was coffee. So I didn't complain (I don't think. I can't be held responsible for any early morning whining that may have escaped). And then? We ran. Lots of miles. I did 9. NINE. What? And it didn't hurt, for the first time in forever.

I ate a PowerBar Shot. It was seriously the grossest thing I have ever ingested. I'm not even kidding. It tasted so horrendous it burned. But it worked. The last two miles went so fast.

Big ups to Amanda, the best pit crew ever. She drove up and down and up and down the road, making sure we were hydrated and all that good stuff. Plus, she took some amazing photos.

Like this one.

Christy, Amanda, Lisa, Thea, Me, Kirsten, Elaine

After our run, we all went and hunkered down in the Frio River. Best post run icing, ever. Miss Molly the dog came with us and spent some quality time fishing for the minnows that were nipping at our legs.

Next? A haircut. I think all of us were freaking out a little bit about cutting Kirsten's hair...except Kirsten! That hooker couldn't wait to be freed of her flowing locks! We measured the her hair to make sure it was long enough to donate, then Christy went to work with, um, KITCHEN SHEARS? Yeah. It was pretty awesome. Jonathan Antin is crapping his pants right now.


See? Don't eff with Christy and her kitchen shears. For reals, yo. She'll cut a hooker(s hair).


All done! Kirsten is one brave lady. And now? I can't even picture her with long hair...short just suits her perfectly.

The night continued...how many hookers does it take to open a bottle of wine?

And there was wine. And margaritas. And shots. And lots of amazing food.

We had a favorite things swag bag - each of us brought a little something to share with the group.
So much fun - and a great way to get to know each other even better!

It gets surprisingly cold at night in Texas. We gathered round the campfire, had s'mores and laughed. A lot.

You know when you wake up in the morning with a sore throat from gabbing so much you've had a good night!

I Hope

I hope, today, I can make it through my training run, swift and strong.


I hope the sky is blue and the sun shines on my face.


I hope my running partner will allow me to finish my training without a tantrum (I think I'll bring some bribery cookies).


I hope I can make it up this one last hill.

(I did it. A sweaty, happy mess.)

I hope that Team Shrinking Jeans raises colossal, record breaking amounts of money for The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. The LLS brings so much hope to so many that feel hopeless.

I hope that my hope blossoms and grows into something bigger and more wonderful than I ever imagined.

For more hope, head on over to I Should Be Folding Laundry.

For more information on The LLS, Team Shrinking Jeans and how you can help give hope, click on over to our Team Page.