Sunday: Angels in my midst

(part 4 in a 4 part series)

SUNDAY (continued):

And the rain just kept coming.

It took me about 20 minutes to get to the start line (which was way better than last year's start line fiasco). I searched out Brother Bear and GrandDaddy Bear, gave them a wave and kiss, turned up my tunes and headed out.

I'll go ahead and get this out of the way first: The first ankle deep gully-washer puddle (between mile 3 and 4) was the worst. The other 9,462 puddles were a piece of cake. I mean, really, what's another puddle when your feet are already freezing cold and wet?

I felt like I was keeping a good pace early on but unfortunately the weather conditions had messed with the mile markers, so I couldn't keep a solid record of my mile times (I don't use a pace band or a GPS. I'm old school!). I tried to keep track of things in my head, but my math skills couldn't keep up for long. I decided to just keep plugging and recalibrate whenever I had a chance.

Let it be known that this really isn't the greatest running strategy in the world.

But in the words of the famous finned philosopher, Dory, I "just kept swimming."

My first bearfriend sighting was somewhere between mile 6-7. I saw 3 Mama Bears from MOPS who were out cheering for their loved ones racing. It's possible I attack-hugged one of them. She did have a glittery sign with my name on it, though! (Side note: I realized several miles later that I got glitter all over me from the hug. I deemed it pixie dust from the speed fairy {speed as in, run faster, not the other kind} and would make me run fast). I was glad to see them as it gave me a nice lift.

Shortly after that, a complete stranger bear ran up next to me and said, "You are running in honor of your son?" (The back of my shirt stated this) I told her that I was. She looked at me and said, "Alright. Well, I'll run for him too!" I was overcome with emotion and really didn't have words for the kind offer from this bear. But I think I muttered out a heartfelt thank you and she disappeared into the crowd as quickly as she came.

I think it's possible she was an angel. Little did I know what was coming...

At mile 9.3 I saw the beloved angels bears from my awesome church manning the water station. I'll just stop right now and say that it was, by far, the BEST water stop on the course. Can you believe that they had someone specifically assigned to try and sweep away the puddles? Awesome. I hooted and hollered as I passed through and gave my dear bearfriend who thought the idea up a giant wet hug. Too bad she was wearing a fisherman's poncho or I would have really soaked her through!

Then I headed to the lake, also known as "THE GODFORSAKEN LONELIEST MILES OF THE RACE." There aren't many spectators, the miles are starting to add up, and the mental game begins. I suffered through. I sang "Hit Me With Your Best Shot" out loud in honor of my Survivor Bear Friend who suggested the song. Apparently, Mother Nature thought I was talking to her because the wind and rain came back with a vengeance! Urg.

It's about time I tell you that my "stretch" goal for the race was a 4:15. I knew it would be a stretch as it was 10 minutes faster than my previous best time, but I decided that I was going to reach for it. For those of you who aren't marathoners, you need to know that all large marathons have "pacers" who are paid to run in marathons at a certain assigned pace and help guide other runners who want to reach that pace. They run with some balloons on a stick that say the time goal they are running. I'll be totally honest with you right now. I can't stand the pacers. They drive this uber competitive Mama Bear crazy. CRAZY. My last 2 big races, I've been caught in the middle of them and for whatever reason, they just get in my psyche and get me off my game.

So, this year, I decided to outsmart them. Or so I thought. I started well in front of the 4:15 pacer knowing that, if I kept my pace, I would never have to interact with them.

The key in the paragraph above being, "if I kept my pace." Which, If you remember from earlier, I was having trouble keeping up with that data, therefore, I was unaware that around the lake I had slowed down a bit. So at mile 15 when I took a walk break and a crowd passed me led by a lady with balloons, I was utterly shocked. And totally heartbroken. It was WAY too early to have these guys on my heels. And it only meant ONE thing. I HAD SLOWED DOWN. Gulp.

I think it's time for me to introduce you to Kathleen, the 2011 White Rock Marathon Clif Pacer for a 4:15 marathon. Because, she is a key figure in the rest of this story. Cyberbears, meet my nemesis Kathleen:

(Okay, she was wearing a hat, coat, gloves and pants when I saw her. But other than that, this is exactly what I saw!)

Determined that I was NOT going to get caught up in a cat and mouse with the Pacer, I sped up. But I swear I could hear Kathleen's footsteps behind me. It was driving me crazy.

Luckily, at mile 17, I was surprised by a family very dear to us who had come out in the rain to cheer. I was so very grateful for them! I wanted to stop and chat with them, but Kathleen was still breathing down my neck. One of them snapped a picture. So you don't think I'm exaggerating, look at the upper right corner of the picture and you can see Kathleen and her stinkin' red and white balloons (you'll also see one of my running buddies smiling right behind me in the trash bag poncho. He had finished his leg of the relay and was cheering his other runners along. What a sweetie!):

SHE WAS BREATHING DOWN MY NECK!

That picture is likely the last time I smiled until the finish line. Because I REFUSED to get passed again, I dug in my heels, sped up, and dropped my walk breaks at mile 18. I have never tried this before in a race. The program I run says that you can do this if you are feeling good in a race. Which, I still was. I also knew that EVERY Wednesday for the entire six month training season, I would do 8 miles of speed work. So, I told myself that this was just going to be another Wednesday training session. I just had to convince my body.

It was about this time that Mother Nature decided that I was too dry and needed more of a challenge. The sky opened up with what I could only describe as the biggest, fattest, coldest raindrops ever. It's quite possible that I called Mother Nature a very dirty word. But, in my defense, she deserved it.

I kept digging and ran some really fast splits. In all honesty, they were too fast. As I hit the hills at mile 21, I knew I was in trouble. But I REFUSED TO GIVE UP.

At mile 23, Kathleen and her taunting bunch of balloons caught up with me. She was literally behind my left shoulder. I heard someone ask her "are you ahead of pace?" and she said, "yes, one minute." But that gave me no confidence because I knew I had started ahead of her. I kept her behind me.

Until mile 25.

At mile 25, I SWEAR she sped up. I SWEAR IT. She took off past me like a bullet. It was at this point that I realized my gas pedal was already on the floor, and I had nothing left to give. I was already physically beat, but seeing her pass me took away every bit of my mental stamina. My goal was literally running away from me.

I was toast.

It was at that point that this bear from the crowd started running beside me. He looked at me and then he pointed at the pacer and said, "You want to do 4:15 don't you?" All I could do was nod my head and sob a pitiful yes. He then said, "Alright. Let's do it. You can do this. I'll run it with you!" I looked at him in shock! Here was this COMPLETE stranger who was willing to make this sacrifice for someone he'd never met. I started to cry in earnest and just continued to nod my head. So he started running beside me.

And, miraculously, I started to speed up. I started to feel power in my legs again and the possibility that I might still have some gas in the tank. The stranger then looked at me and said, "You don't need me. You've got this. YOU CAN DO THIS!" and then disappeared.

Y'all.

I'm still trying to process this experience. It's likely that this bear could have been a regular Joe off the street. It's also likely (given my physical and mental state at the time) that he was a figment of my imagination. It's also highly likely that he was an angel sent to remind me WHY I was running this race and setting this lofty goal.

Whatever he was, he motivated me. I began running with a force and passion I thought I'd left behind at mile 4 and zoomed past Kathleen. It was about this time that I noticed a god-awful sound. I then realized the sound was coming from me. I was crying, no, sobbing. We are talking wailing wall sounds uncontrollably coming out of me. So much that a guy in front of me looked back to see what was going on. Not my finest moment.

I took a couple of deep breaths in an attempt to regain control (and not scare my fellow racers away). I said a prayer of thanksgiving for the gift I've been given to run. I prayerfully thanked each person who had physically, emotionally, and financially gotten me to this point. I thanked our mighty God for the opportunity to make a difference with 26.2 miles.

And then I waddled my fluffy behind to the finish line as fast as my legs could carry me. I started screaming before I could see the finish line. I was overwhelmed with everything this day meant to me, to my family, to all the patients at TSRHC.

I came across the finish line, stopped my watch and saw this:

GOAL ACHIEVED BABY.

I then walked approximately (or, what felt like) 13.1 more miles to receive my medal and my finisher's shirt. Then I made the tortuous return walk back to find my family. Who, by the way, made the wise decision to stay in the dry hospitality area instead of the freezing cold downpour. Hugs and tears were dispensed. Brother Bear brought me a steaming cup of coffee with a peppermint stick in it and I gulped it down.

I was in heaven.

Save the freezing cold, sopping wet clothes. Luckily, in my crazy panicked packing state the night before, I had thought to pack an entire outfit including undergarments, socks and shoes. Y'all. I've never been so happy that I inherited the overpacking gene from my Mother Bear as I was right then. I stripped those wet clothes off as fast as I could. And, for the record, my feet looked like white prunes. It was disgusting.

While my race was a whirlwind of emotions culminating in achieving my goal, Papa Bear's race wasn't exactly what he wanted. The crowd, the wind and the weather really affected his race and he came up short of his goal of qualifying for his 4th Boston marathon. He was very disappointed. I reminded him that 1) conditions were sub prime 2) he had started a new, stressful job 4 days before the race and 3) oh yeah, HE'D HAD HIS APPENDIX SURGICALLY REMOVED a mere 48 days prior. After all that, these were his dismal results IN THE PAPER the next day:

Yeah, 337th out of 4570 runners is pretty awful Cyberbears. HE SHOULD BE ASHAMED. But, as a competitive person myself, I understand his disappointment and share it with him. The good news is, he'll live to run another one. And, if I know him like I do, he'll qualify again. (Even if he says that he'll never run another marathon.)

So, I think that about covers it. Aren't you glad? That was a NOVEL! But I didn't want to leave out a single detail! I wanted each of you to have a small taste of the entire weekend, the entire experience. It was a precious, awesome, humbling, honor of a weekend.

And, to date, we've raised $5,425.00 for Texas Scottish Rite Hospital.

I call that a success.

Thanks for taking this ride with us. We couldn't imagine better companions.

The End.

Or not.....