I
am sure you have all heard about it by now. I officially ran my first
marathon on Oct. 18, 2015. This was a goal I had for a really long time,
dating all the way back to when I was at the peak of my running
career in college. My goal was to run my first marathon by the time I
was 30. Well, as fate would have it I ran my first 26.2 miles just 10
days after turning 29. Mission accomplished, you could say.
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| Angie and I at the start |
Except
this mission would not have started or been accomplished without the
help of one very special woman: Angie Keiser.
You
see, I let my goal escape me. Life buried me, put my running on
interuptus one too many times. Until I met Angie. She was running to
beat breast cancer and to inspire others with her journey. She
inspired me to sign up to run with her.
I
joked that we were going to be the two most poorly trained people in
the race...and I do not think I was far off. We had both run no more
than 6 miles at once in training. Both of our training schedules were
disrupted. Hers by her cancer treatments, mine by work.
In
a way that probably worked for us. We were equally horribly trained
but on the same page enough that we were able to stick together for
the entire race.
I
was stupidly optimistic going in, doubtful less than halfway in, and
relieved when we finally finished.
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| Halfway done! Super smiley! |
For
those of you who have known me for a while, you might remember that I
experienced pain from hip flexor flare-ups during my college running
career. Yeah...that came back...around mile 9. Suffice it to say that
miles 9 through 18 were just absolutely terrible...every step was
painful, every step caused pulling of that muscle.
During
the first 5 miles of the race I remember thinking “this is not bad,
just keep going.” By mile 15, I was thinking, “you go girl, this
is the farthest you have ever run!” But the pain was also with me,
and I remember thinking there was NO WAY I was going to last another
11.2 miles.
But
Angie was next to me. I knew she was hurting too, and gosh darn it I
had signed up to be her cheerleader! Cheerleaders do not quit, they
are in it for the long haul! Sure, most cheerleaders just have to run
up and down the field and do some flips and cheering, they never run
26.2 miles in their effort to applaud and inspire...but I always have
been a bit of a dreamer and over-achiever. I like to set the bar
high.
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| Only 6.2 miles to go! |
So
I continued on. Around mile 18 my muscle either loosened up a bit or
went numb. I would guess the latter. Either way, the end result was
the pain had lessened to the point that I thought I might actually be
able to last another 8.2 miles.
Around
mile 20 I saw my parents. I so needed that, I needed to know they
were there to cheer me on. My mom had a sign that said, “That tutu
makes your butt look great!” Oh, did I not mention I ran the whole
way in a purple tutu? Well, I am a cheerleader...
Perhaps
my favorite sign though was the one that said, “Run fast! Dad just
farted!” I think I am going to have that one framed.
There
were a lot of doubts on that course. I honest to Zeus never thought I
was going to make it, but like I told my Dad when he asked what was
going to keep me going, “My stubbornness. I have quite a bit of
it.”
“You
are just like your mother,” he told me after I finished. “When
you decide you are going to do something, you find a way.”
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| I knew this tutu looked great! |
The
truth is, none of this would have been possible without Angie. I
never would have signed up. I probably would never have made it to
the half without her. I definitely would have dropped out around mile
15, when the pain was at its peak and every step was agony. She is
the one who kept me going. The truth is, this story, this journey has
been about her from the very beginning. She may not have known it,
but I think she pushed me just as much, if not more, than I pushed
her.
There
was one time I got in front of her, miles 23.5 to mile 25. The pain
was starting to come back. I literally had to keep jogging. I wanted
to walk, but jogging hurt the least. I felt terrible pulling in front
of her, but I also knew she had friends in Kat Pass and Janae Vogel
who were with her. Oh Janae, what spirit! She cheered for us from the
sidelines and then ran with us from the 20 mile mark to the end.
I
felt bad about leaving Angie behind, but she told me at the end that
seeing me going actually did push her.
“You
were going just like we were at the start,” she said. Janae and Kat
urged her to keep going, to catch up to me. I remember looking back
one time and I did not see Angie. Maybe a half mile later I looked
back again and there they were.
At
the 25 mile mark I dropped back to wait. We started this journey
together and gosh darn it, we were going to finish together.
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| Angie and I finish the Mankato Marathon together! |
I
will admit, I got very happy and energized in that last 1.2 miles. We
were there, we were done, we had come 25 miles and the end was in
sight!
The
most beautiful vision I ever saw was when we turned that last corner
and the black and white checkered FINISH line loomed in front of us.
Four blocks, three, two, one...I grabbed Angie’s hand and we
crossed together.
This
journey, this vision, this goal had finally come to an end.
 |
| Bold and beautiful! |
But
it is not the end.
Angie
and I plan to return next year, with some actual training under our
belt, and kill our time. It took us 6 hours, 27 minutes to finish.
Next year we want to hit 5 hours, 30 minutes.
 |
| FINISHERS! |
I
have an even bigger goal, one that is probably two years away. With
a realistic goal of 2017, I want to share My Bold Story about
bullying. I would love to turn the marathon into a fundraiser for
bullying awareness. During the next two years I am planning to
purchase a weighted vest. I want to train and do runs, first 5Ks and
10Ks, then a half-marathon, while wearing a weighted vest with 20
pounds.
My
ultimate goal is to run the Mankato Marathon. The first half of the
race I intend to run in normal running clothes. When I cross the 13.1
mile mark, I would like to put on the weighted vest.
That
is how bullying works. When it first starts you are strong, you can
keep your head high. But as it goes on and continues, it begins to
weigh on you, and the pressure pushes down on you. It is hard to
relieve that weight. I hope that in two years time I can be a voice
for those living in silence and fear.
United
we stand, untied we fall...
