Day 264: Friendship and Spectating

Who flies almost 2000 miles just to watch a marathon? This girl. This past weekend, I was in DC to watch my two best friends and a handful of really great people run the Marine Corps Marathon. I love this race. It is a beautiful celebration of all things DC. I’ve run the race twice (my only two marathons) and crewed/provided on-course support for many of my years living in the DC metro area. As a runner, it is a relatively easy, mostly-flat course that winds around the beautiful parts of the nation’s capitol. The on-course support, provided by the marines from Quantico, is always stellar; those guys wake up at 1am so they can make it up to the race start and cheer for runners for the entire day. They are always motivating and being positive, it’s really awesome. And lastly, you get to finish the race at my favorite memorial, Iwo Jima. It’s a stellar race with almost-always good weather. But this year, it wasn’t about me. It was about Jamie, Julie, Abi, Jamie’s friend Liz, my running store boss Joe, old co-workers and friends: Kristin, Lindsay, Sonia, Whitney, James, and all of the other awesome folks I knew out there kicking ass. And I was more excited about spectating the race than I had ever been when running it.

If you’ve never spectated, crewed for or volunteered to assist with a race and you are a runner, you absolutely should. Being part of the running community (to me at least), means that you get to enjoy the benefits of races, but you should also be a supporter. It barely takes any energy at all to be a good spectator. Buy a cowbell, make a sign, and stand outside for a morning cheering on people who are bettering their lives through exercise. It can be one of the most humbling and inspiring things you’ll ever do. This race was special for me because so many people I knew and cared about were running, so I was even more excited about my trip to DC. My last trip to DC/VA was a struggle; I won’t lie. I had been gone barely a month and coming back made me miss the people I love there even more. But I was quite enamored with Colorado at that time, the butterflies of the new romance one has with their new home, you might say. This visit was different. I have a home and a life in Colorado now. I have friends and feel comfortable being a member at my local climbing gym. I go out on weekend trips and am more settled in enjoying the beautiful outdoors there. But it’s only been 4 months, and Colorado lacks my three best friends, and all of the beautiful relationships I built in Virginia. So I knew this trip would be “a punch in the gut.”

I was looking forward to flying out starting about a month prior. I would talk to my girls, Jamie, Abi, and Sara, almost daily about how excited I was to see them. Oh and we can’t forget the Facebook countdowns. I guess this time around, it was more like going home for Christmas after your first semester at college. Plus I was crazy proud of Jamie, Julie, and Abi for the training they had put in for this race and I was so excited to see them crush the marathon I had done and loved twice. Then before I knew it, it was Wednesday at 5am and I was en route to the Denver International Airport to see my “family.” I knit for the entirety of the 3-hour flight and arrived in my old home to sunny skies and beautiful weather. It was the perfect homecoming. Over the next few days I had such an amazing time visiting my old gym, having dinners with cherished friends, and enjoying the hang out time with my best friends I had missed so dearly. It was really the best; seeing so many familiar faces and exchanging so many hugs with people I have known for years. There is something really special about being around the people who know all of your stories. Where I don’t have to explain myself. I don’t need to give background explanation. Where those people have been through the rough times with me, and our friendships came out stronger because of it. Where I just am me, and they know that person, they love her, and they accept me just as I am. It felt amazing to be back and surrounded by so much love.

Before I knew it, it was Saturday and I was lying on the floor of Jamie’s room with her and Julie making their sign for the race the next day. We chatted about this and that, as I colored their names in, and wrote in a silly slogan I knew would make them chuckle. The girls planned their music lists and Jamie tried on three different outfits for race day. I remembered exactly how it felt, all that nervous and excited energy. It was awesome to see them so pumped for the next day. Then we were off to dinner with Julie’s awesome parents. Even though traditionally people carbo-load before races, the girls got “normal food” dinners and I ate bison. Haha! The plan was to head to bed soon after dinner so we could be up crazy early to make our way to the race start. At 4:45AM the alarms started going off, and we all made our way like zombies to the hotel to meet up with Jamie and Julie’s friend Liz and Liz's boyfriend, Jake. Once we were all together, we headed to the bus, which took us to the metro, and then we got off at the Pentagon and got to walk about a mile to the race start. A nice long-ass trip to get at 5AM. It wasn’t as cold as we all were expecting and the girls were starting to shed layers before the start. Then we came to a security checkpoint, and Jake and I had to break off from the girls since we were carrying bags (which were not allowed past the check point). So we then walked as fast as possible back to the metro so we could make it to Rosslyn and see the girls come through the first mile.

Me with my giant sign on the bus

Julie, Jamie, and Liz before we left them to go to Rosslyn

At Rosslyn, we were able to find Julie’s parents and found a good spot to spectate from. I was so excited to see the girls that I barely noticed how tired I was from barely getting any sleep the night before and not eating anything that morning. It was 8AM and the wheel chair participants were starting to come through. I had my huge sign resting on top of my head so the girls would see it. I love the MCM for many reasons, but one of the coolest ones is seeing the athletes out there who are competing with limbs missing, the marines and soldiers running in full packs to honor their fallen brethren, and all of the charity runners who you know raised hundreds of thousands of dollars for amazing causes in addition to training for this race. I always tear up, every MCM, when I see that one person go through who is out there battling all of the odds. This year it was a guy with robotic legs and only one real arm. He was riding a bike and had a group of his military buddies running on all sides of him to protect him. The motivation of these people who have lost not only parts of their body, but also struggle with a host of other issues, I am sure, is the most inspiring thing I’ve ever seen. Needless to say, my eyes were brimming with tears. Soon after, we spotted the girls and they all waved and looked super happy and excited. After the girls passed, we took off to Foggy Bottom.

Luckily for us, the Foggy Bottom race course section had two spots where we were able to see the girls, mile 6 and mile 9. Again, I rested my sign on top of my head and cheered for all the folks running by. By mile 6, the crowds had thinned out some and it was easier to pick out runners. Before we knew it, Jamie, Julie, and Liz came running by and shedding clothes. Jamie pegged me right in the face with her jacket and hat and it was hilarious. So then we headed over to mile 9 and waited. Since I knew we had some time, I let the sign rest on the ground (who knew a cardboard sign almost as big as me could be heavy!) and clapped, hollered, and cheered for the runners. At this checkpoint, I saw my boss from the running store Joe, my old co-workers Kristin, Lindsey, and my other best friend, Abi. All of my friends were still looking strong at this point and I was super excited for them. Then came the girls again, smiling and hollering at us. I knew after they passed us they were headed to Hains Point, my least favorite part of the race, so I cheered extra loud when they ran by.

Liz, Jamie, and Julie

After seeing everyone at mile 9, we headed up to the Smithsonian to watch from up there. Funny side note, up until this point, runner tracking was not working, so we were just guessing and hoping that every where we showed up, that they’d come running through soon after. Of course, once it started working, we all got about 50 texts at once. Where we stood at the Smithsonian, was around mile 18, before the infamous “beat the bridge” spot at mile 20. The runners coming through at this point, looked much more exhausted (not surprisingly, we hadn’t seen them for at least 9 more miles). I tried to cheer louder and tell everyone they looked great. I remembered my two MCMs, the best cheers were from folks saying, “Great job,” “Keep up the good work” or “You look awesome.” I knew I looked like hell, but having someone say that always perked me up. So I yelled for the runners and told them how awesome they were. Because, really, they are. A marathon is no easy feat. I ran both of mine with severe fractures in my legs. That’s right, fractures from running. It takes time, training, and commitment to run a marathon, and even with the large number of folks running them these days, you are still part of only a small part of the country who actually goes and does one. It’s really incredible. I am always impressed and inspired by the dedication of runners, and I tried to channel that while cheering them on, strangers and friends alike.

At some point while we were at the Smithsonian spot, we got a call from Julie (of the three girls, she was the only one who brought her phone), saying that she had told Jamie and Liz to go on ahead and run their own race because she was having severe neck pain and headache issues. We obviously were super concerned for her, but we waited “patiently” for them to come through. I saw my friend Abi come by and I held my sign high and cheered. She was running so strong and looked awesome. I was crazy proud and gave her the best high five I could. When Jamie showed up, she was still running strong, but was sad that Julie had to drop back. The girls had run the Cincinnati marathon together and finished holding hands, so I knew how much they wanted to do that again for this race. But unfortunately that was not in the cards. We knew that Julie was strong and would push through her pain to finish, but also that Jamie had to run her race. She questioned for a minute if she should wait, and Julie’s dad spoke what we were all thinking, ‘go run your race.’ I told my best friend to be strong and keep kicking ass as she took back off toward the bridge. As I watched her run away, I silently wished her the best race and a strong finish. She has spent the last few months training mostly alone on cold mornings and I knew she put a lot of energy into this race. I hoped for her that she would finish strong and something in my heart told me she would. A couple of minutes later, we saw Liz pass by, all smiles. This was her first marathon and she looked tired, but so happy. We waved and cheered as she passed by. Then we waited for Julie to come through. We were all nervous that she had maybe dropped out or was really in trouble, but there was no way of knowing. About ten minutes after Jamie and Liz passed, Julie showed up. She said she was in pain, but that she was okay. She said she had given up on the time goal and was walk-running to keep her headache at bay, but that she was determined to finish. I could see it in her eyes, that fire; I knew she would finish. We told her that she was amazing and strong and to kick the end of her race’s ass. As Julie headed off toward the bridge, we went to the metro to try to make it to the finish before Jamie and Liz got there.

When we got to the Arlington Cemetery exit there was another security checkpoint. Julie’s parents were able to get through, but I wasn’t. Apparently my bag was too big (it’s my Black Diamond Magnum, but it’s really not that big), but if I had a plastic bag, apparently I could empty the contents, roll up the bag and bring everything in. It was the stupidest rule I have ever heard. After talking to 5 marines, I found one with a brain (and some sort of overseeing power) and he let me empty my bag, and take all of my items in in my arms. However, this delayed me massively and I missed my best friend finishing her race. Since Julie hadn’t yet come through her parents went down to the line to cheer for her, and I followed the massive crowd to find Jamie and Liz. Finally they used a stranger’s phone to call their phones, which I had, and I was able to find them. The post-race “meet up” area was a disaster, so I was grateful we had some sort of plan. Jamie and Liz were sitting on the grass resting with their medals hanging proudly around their necks. We took some pictures and met up with Jamie’s roommates. Soon Julie and her parents showed up and we took some group pictures before trying to head back to the car. The girls were all very tired, but happy to have finished. It was great fun, walking back and hearing all the stories from their race; what funny signs they saw, people they chatted with, and physical/mental issues they encountered and fought through.

Jamie and Liz with their finisher medals

The trio post-marathon

Me and my best friend who PR-ed by 10 minutes!!! ((so proud!))

I had an amazing time watching my friends do such a great job on their races. They all trained very hard and put a lot energy, time, heart, and soul into this race, and that takes a lot. There is a reason not everyone runs marathons. They are hard. The training takes up your mornings, nights, energy, and free time. You have blisters and chafing. You end up talking about shoes, aches and pains, and GU a lot with other runners or really anyone who will listen. You hate stretching and foam rolling, but you do it every day while watching TV before bed. Your weekends are measured by your long runs and your weekdays start earlier so you can get your run in. It’s not easy. Most folks can’t just go out and run a marathon, let alone put in the time and energy training for one. The ones that do are special; the ones who do a bunch are even more so. I have nothing but the upmost respect and admiration for my friends and all those strangers who run and I felt honored to be able to cheer for them.

The best part of all this was that watching this race reminded me of why I love running. I love running because I love that feeling of accomplishment and the high I get after finishing a long distance run or race. It has been a month since I’ve gone for a run. A MONTH!?! I have had no motivation to run, no desire to wake up early or go out in the afternoon. I’ve shunned my beautiful running shoes, leaving them to gather dust in the corner of the apartment. But I am a runner; it’s who I am. It’s in my blood. It’s in the chemical reactions in my brain. It’s in my heart. I wear my running clothes like a badge stating who I am. I have it tattooed on my quad, “curro ergo sum.” I run therefore I am. I lose sight of who I am if I don’t run, and I think that was part of why I was so much looking forward to this trip. I needed the reminder as to who I am. I am writing this sitting on the plane flying back to my new home, my new friends, and my new life. While I know no person, place or thing can replace, everything and every one I love (so So SO much) back in Virginia, I know that, as a very close friend reminded me when I said leaving again would be a punch in the gut, I moved for the right reasons. One of the main reasons I moved to Colorado was because I love running and because I wanted to be a better, stronger trail runner. Once again, I want to run. I am once again committed to the idea of waking up at 5am to get in a run before I start work at 7am. I am looking forward to lacing up my beautiful Mizuno Wave Sayonaras. I can’t wait for Sunday long runs. I have no race I am training for, but I am training for me. I am looking forward to reuniting with the deep feelings I have had toward the sport I have been in love with for almost 10 years now.

So here’s to the best friendships a girl could ask for and the re-ignited inspiration to start running again. I can’t wait to get off this plane, get home, and go for a run in my beautiful, big, new back yard. Happy trails.

Running is love. Running is life. 

**Thank you Jamie, Julie, Liz, Abi, Joe, Sonia, Kristen, Lindsay, Whitney, James, and all of my other amazing wonderful friends for letting me be a part of your race and cheer for you. You all are amazing, incredible, strong women and men and I love all of you so much. Until we get to be together again, I’ll be running and thinking of all of you.**