Home > Blogging, Los Angeles, Personal, Reflections > “Almost there, 6287!”

“Almost there, 6287!”

“Only three miles left! How’s that feel?”

“Like hell,” I spat through gritted teeth.

Rightfully not taking my grumbled response personally, the lady laughed and offered up some orange slices. I offered the heartiest thanks I could muster as I nabbed these while cruising crawling up a molehill that felt like Everest.

I hadn’t planned to run that first marathon. In fact, I’d only started running because I figured I could complete an entire run in the amount of time it would take me just to travel between gym and home. Pacing wasn’t an important part of the running I’d been doing before I started the 2004 L.A. Marathon, which I did for no greater reason than that my roommate said a couple weeks beforehand, “You’re running so much, you should run the marathon!”

I started the marathon the way I started most my runs: with as much speed as I could muster. I raced through the first ten miles at a 6- and 7-minute per mile clip. I was on top of the world!

Around mile 17, I learned how running a marathon is not like going for a two-hour run around your neighborhood. You’re in it for the long haul, not just for as long as you feel like running.

Around mile 24, I was barely moving. I was so lost in the effort of making it one more step (and praying I’d pass out so I could stop running), I didn’t have enough energy to believe in myself.

Weak middle? That’s cool. It’s the finishing you take with you.

Fortunately, others not only believed in me but vocally urged me onward. Someone would yell, “Almost there, 6287!” and I’d think, “You know, they’re right! I am almost there!” I’d push myself back up toward speeds almost qualifiable as running speeds, and keep them going for a full minute or two before I flagged again.

When downtown Los Angeles came into sight, my fists flew up in an unplanned demonstration of primal glee. Right after that, I thought, with a lot more swearing, “I don’t like the telescoping lens effect in horror movies and I like it less here. @#$)@#*%!”

I kept running.

By the time I rounded the last corner, a block seemed like an eternity. Keeping up a crawl was taking everything I had.

“6287,” someone shouted. “You’re looking tired!”

No sh!t, Sherlock, I thought graciously.

“You’re looking tired, but you’ve got this! Sprint it! I know you’ve got it in you!”

I couldn’t see the person who yelled this encouragement, but I believed him. I looked at the finish line looming and thought, “Hell, yeah, I can do this!”

I steeled myself and I ran. I didn’t crawl, I didn’t doubt, I didn’t do anything but run.

I crossed that finish line and I wept like a little girl who’s told she’s never going to have ice cream again. Ever. But my tears had a different source:Β I’d done it. And I’d done it, in part, due to orange slices, high fives, and people shouting me on when I didn’t have enough room in my heart to believe in myself.

It’s been ten months since I ran my half marathon in Portland. In those months, until this morning, I’ve run only twice. The first run was twelve minutes; the second, sixteen.

This morning I told myself I’d run fifteen minutes. Instead, I ran twenty. I doubtfully ran even one-tenth the distance I covered in either marathon I’ve run, but it was a challenge nevertheless. It’s always a challenge coming back to something after a long break. Am I still good for this?

I thought of all those folks who cheered me on when I so needed it. I thought, too, of all the kind words you have shared when I needed them here, and the way you did the same in response to Darla’s raw, personal, breathtaking reflections on gratitude.

Your words mean something. In the end, it’s the runner herself who will or will not find what it takes to finish that marathon, or to push the “Publish” button no matter her doubts. But I believe more and more each day races are finished with the support of the people whose faith in us helped us overcome our own doubts before and during, and whose Gatorade and movie marathons afterward remind us that we’ll make it through the challenges to come, too.

Thank you for that, dear readers.

Thank you, “Sherlock.”

Let's BEE Friends

  1. August 16, 2011 at 6:26 am

    Wow I could never do one, well done for crossing that finish line!

    • August 16, 2011 at 6:35 am

      Tee-hee! I bet you could, in the right circumstances–such as if doing so earned you an out for being tossed into an arena with an alien from Predators! It’s all about imagining the right context. πŸ˜‰

  2. August 16, 2011 at 6:55 am

    I was listening to a report on NPR about peak conditioning. Your body wants to hold onto how it was both at its peak and at its valley. When you’re working out, you can get yourself back to your apex quite easily. When you’re not working out, you can get yourself back to your absolute low-point even easier. This is why those guys who end Biggest Loser gain so much of their weight back right after the show. And, it’s why former triathletes can take years off, have kids, put on a few pounds, and still get themselves back into competition shape in a month.

    I’ll always remember the absolute dread in my first marathon at mile 18. Only, when you were running 6 or 7 minute miles, I was running 8/9 minute miles, and that was still way too fast.

    My next marathon (I now have two under my belt, with the second going much better than the first), I’m totally putting “JOHN” in bright letters on my shirt . . . hearing “you can do it, John” would be a lot more encouraging than “you can do it 40,” but I certainly appreciate your sentiment about being pushed by the call from a stranger.

    • August 16, 2011 at 7:01 am

      I’ve actually run two marathons as well. I registered for the second timely enough to actually have my name on the bib. I can’t speak to others, but hearing “Go, 6287!” and “Go, Deefy!” had exactly the same impact on me. I knew it was me they were talking to, and I took that to heart.

      I ran my first marathon in 4:27, and my second in 4:12. Part of deciding it was time to start running again was realizing I’m never going to hit my goal of coming in under 4:00 if I don’t even bother taking steps toward it. So, I just took a bunch–not nearly enough for a marathon, but certainly steps in the right direction!

      • August 18, 2011 at 6:24 am

        My first marathon was 5:27, and the second was 4:47. I, too, have the goal of finishing less than 4:00, but I’m nowhere close to it. By the time I’m 50, maybe πŸ˜‰

  3. August 16, 2011 at 6:59 am

    Wow, what a spectacular story. I am so moved by your courage & determination to run & finish a marathon. Not only that, but the way you’ve related it to the rest of your life & goals is the kind of thinking that makes people great. Some people don’t learn the lessons that are there to be learned, too bad for them. Thanks for sharing, I needed to hear this right now.

    • August 16, 2011 at 8:55 am

      Thanks for sharing, I needed to hear this right now.

      I’m not there to say it in person, but please know that I’m rooting for you from the sidelines nevertheless.

  4. August 16, 2011 at 7:14 am

    Holy crap, you ran how far! I can barely run a mile…. Go you!

    • August 16, 2011 at 8:56 am

      Thanks! I was super happy that this morning’s 2- to 2.5-mile run wasn’t as painful as the 12- and 16-minute runs a few months back. I wouldn’t want to run a marathon again tomorrow, but I should be back there in a few months!

  5. August 16, 2011 at 7:22 am

    That is incredible!!! I can’t really run fast or far, unlike you, I say: I’ll run 20 minutes…. and I give up after 10 πŸ˜› running is just not my thing, I admire you!

    • August 16, 2011 at 8:57 am

      I’ll run 20 minutes…. and I give up after 10

      I hated running when I started it, but it grew on me. Some days I have a harder time remembering why/how it grew on me, this was happily not one of them!

      Thank you πŸ™‚

  6. August 16, 2011 at 7:34 am

    I guess I won’t hold it against you that you’re engaging in this strange, torturous activity voluntarily, as long as you don’t mind that I’ll be cheering from the sidelines, using those orange slices to garnish my cosmos.

    • August 16, 2011 at 8:59 am

      If you’re cheering folks on while enjoying those cosmos, I’m all for it. In fact, if you felt like sharing, I’d wager enjoying one while running might not be the best for my hydration . . . but I could see it having other benefits!

      This comment had me giggling and going, “What I wrote in preface to her FTIAT post is spot on!” Love ya for it. πŸ˜€

  7. August 16, 2011 at 8:25 am

    Amazing what a little encouragement and support will do for a person! πŸ™‚

    • August 16, 2011 at 9:01 am

      Exactly so! I try to remember this when I’m getting all grumbly with people, and find something encouraging to stay instead. Ideally there’ll come a time where I’ll start out with the encouragement and skip over the grumbling, but as you know I’m not quite there yet! :p

  8. johncerickson
    August 16, 2011 at 10:19 am

    I’ve NEVER run that far (and hopefully will never need to), but after a four-hour march in 100+ Degree heat, wearing wool and 50-pounds of gear and carrying a 25-pound machine gun, I can absolutely vouch for the support from folk on the sidelines. It makes it just that little bit easier to keep going to the end with back straight and shoulders squared.
    You go, girl! And I’ll be glad to give you that support, as long as I can stand next to GoJulesGo on the sidelines! πŸ˜‰

  9. August 16, 2011 at 10:24 am

    Excellent job – with the running and the writing.

  10. August 16, 2011 at 10:30 am

    I’m inspired! πŸ™‚

    I think our two posts could be a nice double bill. Weight lifting and running: and not giving up!

    This was the perfect motivation for me to finish my last deadline for my Novella Class. Thanks for writing.

    • August 17, 2011 at 9:07 pm

      The posts really do go together well–much better, IMO, than actually running and weight lifting simultaneously! πŸ˜€

      What’s the last deadline? Didja meet it/are you on track to?

      • August 18, 2011 at 6:21 am

        Hehe. I’m picturing someone running with a bar across their shoulders, panting like crazy.

        I did make the last deadline! Ten polished pages handed in on Tuesday. Only problem is that I set an extra deadline for my self: I would finish my first draft by the deadline. This I didn’t make. But I’m working on it now. πŸ™‚

  11. August 16, 2011 at 12:21 pm

    I worship at your feet – you ran a marathon?! That is far far beyond anything I could ever hope to achieve. I can barely run longer than 2 minutes without wanting to keel over and die. It isn’t helped by the fact I have to concentrate hard not to wet my pants with every step after the birth of my daughter. This is the excuse I’m sticking with anyway…

    • August 17, 2011 at 9:10 pm

      I ran a couple! Much like levitating in the Douglas Adams universe, I’ve historically sucked at believing I could do things before I’ve actually done them. I’m glad my roommate/friend uttered those words, and that I said, “Huh. If I can run three hours tomorrow, I’m signing up!” I ran three hours and fifteen minutes the next day, said what the hey, and dropped the cash. Thus was it that for my second marathon I countered thoughts of, “What was I thinking?” with incredulous retorts of, “BUT YOU ALREADY DID. Bozo!” πŸ˜€

      My mom always complained about how much sneezing sucked after bearing children. I’d always thought she was exaggerating–turns out, not so much!

  12. August 16, 2011 at 12:54 pm

    Wow – I can’t run 1 block! It’s tough to remaster something without wasting a lot of time first, beating yourself up for slacking off.

    Here’s me, standing on the sidelines of your writing life, shouting “Go, go, go! You’re a great writer, 6287, you can do it!”

    • August 17, 2011 at 9:14 pm

      Thank you! Picturing this makes me so happy. πŸ˜€ πŸ˜€ πŸ˜€ In fact, I’m about as grateful as I am tired, which is the best possible explanation for the fact that I’m sprinting straight back to my bed after I post this comment! That’s the only kind of run I’m good for tonight, sadly. But then, there is tomorrow morning. I’m going to be up and at ’em early, seeing if I can do better than yesterday about both writing and running before the little guy awakens! (Plans were thwarted when the last twenty minutes were spent trying to keeping him in his bedroom. Why did he have to figure out there’s not a magical forcefield keeping him in his room until we come fetch him in the mornings?!)

  13. August 16, 2011 at 12:57 pm

    I needed to read this today! I love the quote with your pic “Weak middle? That’s cool. It’s the finishing you take with you.” I can’t tell you how many middles that I’ve floundered in the middle of!! But, my friend, you are right, you’ve gotta push onward and ahead! It’s the finishing that matters :).

    BTW, completing a marathon is an incredible accomplishment! You’re like a superhero or something!! πŸ™‚ Great post!!

    • August 19, 2011 at 5:47 am

      I wrote another caption for that picture, but then erased it and typed that. It felt like a much better reflection of what the post was about for me. And it’s what that photo means to me, too; I used to have it up right next to my bathroom mirror, so that in moments of struggle I’d look at it and think, “I’ll get through this, too.” I mean to do the same thing here, but I’ve been meaning to do it for two years now. *cough*

      LOL @ superhero. Definitely not, but the feeling you get when you cross that finish line and know how strong you are? Totally worth all the struggle leading up to the point!

  14. August 16, 2011 at 1:09 pm

    You are amazing! A marathon?! Go go go 6287!! Like Lenore said, your writing, your ability to run crazy distances….excellent job! I know I said this before, but I bow down to you.

    Running is something I never thought I’d do unless a tiger was chasing me. For some strange reason I took up running last year. I could barely do five minutes at a time. A few times I wanted to bust out the defibrillator. But eventually I began to actually enjoy it (I know, I’m crazy like that!) The feeling of knowing I could push myself further and further gave me confidence. I managed to get up to 3 miles three times a week and was all gung-ho to do my first 5k this summer when I was sidelined with a severely swollen tendon in my foot. grrr! After reading this, I have to get back to running again, even if just 1 mile here and there.

    • August 19, 2011 at 5:52 am

      πŸ˜€ @ “unless a tiger was chasing me.”

      Aw about being sidelined! It was plantar fasciitis that stopped my running right after the half-marathon lost October. I still feel it, but it’s not nearly as bad as it was then, which is why I decided to Vibram up and hit the streets a couple of days ago. (I meant to do the same yesterday, but Li’l D is testing bedtime boundaries, so it didn’t happen!) I’ll probably only be able to do a mile or two here and there for a little while, but even 10-minute runs leave me feeling better afterward than I did before. Even when I don’t exactly like it (which I’d put at about half the time), there’s something so primally satisfying about it. It’s like I’m connected to our ancestors and to a world so different than the one we move through now. I love it, and I love that I’m not actually running away from tigers, although that would likely have been the source of ancestral running. πŸ˜‰

      How has your injury fared? You healed up, or mostly? I’ll be curious to hear if you do get out and run again soon!

      • August 19, 2011 at 2:12 pm

        “something so primally satisfying about it. It’s like I’m connected to our ancestors and to a world so different than the one we move through now”

        Wow, bingo! This is what I wanted to say but couldn’t! lol

        I’ve had an x-ray on my ankle/foot which showed nothing (surprise, surprise) but the tendon is still severely swollen and black and blue (ugh!) so I did stay off it for awhile. Put ice on it etc. Now I’m just walking, no running at all. I am going to see a podiatrist next month so fingers crossed she can figure out what the deal is!

  15. August 16, 2011 at 3:08 pm

    What an awesome metaphor for life! I know, it really happened, but seriously! It’s true no matter what you’re striving to achieve. Rock on!

    • August 19, 2011 at 5:53 am

      It really is true no matter what the challenge! Looking at that finish line photo and remembering the surge of combined disbelief and pride I felt at having pushed myself through it all to reach that is part of what gets me through tough times now, be they in a run, at the office, in life. Often the finish line won’t always be so clearly defined, but it’s out there somewhere. πŸ™‚

  16. August 16, 2011 at 5:00 pm

    I’m with SAM “Go go go 6287!!” So proud of you and to be touched by your spirit.

    • August 19, 2011 at 5:56 am

      Oh, goodness. Only just now did I figure out what “SAM” stood for. *headdesk*

      Thanks, Georgette. ♥

  17. August 16, 2011 at 5:53 pm

    I love this post! I think it’s an inspiration! And it makes me want to lace up my sneakers and go for a run. It’s amazing the people who help to pull you across the finish line with their kind words and positivity.

    • August 20, 2011 at 4:46 am

      Seconded, and thank you! I haven’t actually run since, thanks to Li’l D figuring out he can actually get in and out of his room as he pleases (d’oh!), but my hope’s that I’ll get a run in during the evening tonight or tomorrow. I hope if you’re doing the same it’s with smiles. πŸ™‚

  18. August 16, 2011 at 7:30 pm

    Reading about your twenty helps to buoy me on a day when I’m so sleep deprived that I keep seeing dark things running past my field of vision. (I’ve got my own little horror movie going on here. πŸ™‚ )

    I’m hoping for sleep tonight, but even if I’m not blessed with it, I’ll still get in some exercise tomorrow. I can do it. (Sherlock does have a point there!) Reading about your first marathon helps me keep my eye on the prize, too. Thanks.

    • August 20, 2011 at 4:48 am

      I’m with you on this! The last week’s found me having a really hard time sleeping, even with Benadryl. (That would, in fact, be why I’m up typing comments at 4:45 a.m. after actually going out for once last night.)

      Have you gotten any good sleep in since? Fingers crossed for you, both on the running and the sleeping fronts!

  19. August 16, 2011 at 11:14 pm

    That’s amazing! So cool that people cheered you on. I hope I can be that kind of person, too. I hate running and would never torture myself with a marathon, but I loved hearing about how you persevered when it seemed impossible. Congrats on the awesome accomplishment and thanks for sharing!

    • August 20, 2011 at 4:52 am

      I love the folks who stand and shout encouragement, and the ones who have treats to help spur people on! I brought a bunch of stuff to help me through the LA Marathon, only to find their stations along the way were more than enough to keep me going. I threw out everything I’d been carrying with me (on account of everything feeling heavy when you run with it for 26 miles) and rejoiced.

      Then, when it was time to run the Eugene marathon, I thought, “They’ve got my back! No need to bring stuff!”


      Oh, man, was the latter part of the marathon ever miserable. It was miserable straight up till a point near the end where people stood with gummi bears and oranges. I can’t count how many times I told them I loved them, or how greedily I hoarded their snacks. Tee-hee! That stuff makes a world of difference.

      And thank you. (>^^)>

  20. August 17, 2011 at 12:59 am

    Oh wow, I’m so impressed! It’s a year yesterday since I started the Couch to 5k program, and the most I’ve ever run is 8 kilometres. I’ve become a bit of a gym junkie in place of the actual outdoor running, and for some reason the cross trainer appeals to me a whole lot more than the treadmill. Running is such a mental toughness, I do miss it when I haven’t pounded the pavement for a while. Well done, and thank you for sharing – felt like I was there running with you! πŸ™‚

    • August 20, 2011 at 4:55 am

      Thank you! I totally relate to what you say here: “Running is such a mental toughness, I do miss it when I haven’t pounded the pavement for a while.” Typing that makes me wish I could sneak out the door without likely waking my little one (and all the fun involved in that!), but I’ll get out there in the next couple of days and relish it. I don’t know that I’ll like it, but I’ll definitely relish it. πŸ˜€

  21. August 17, 2011 at 4:36 am

    Run, Sherlock, Run! Sorry, Couldn’t resist!
    Awesome post, though.

  22. August 17, 2011 at 5:30 am

    Awesome, inspiring post! You tapped into my sense of longing for connectedness and community and lifting each other up. It might seem silly, but this post made me cry. (But what’s new?) Of course, Iron & Wine (The Trapeze Swinger) also happens to be playing on my Slacker station while I read and comment.

    And what a great reminder to push ourselves during our heaviest moments of doubt!

    • August 20, 2011 at 5:02 am

      Actually, the fact it made you cry makes me feel better about my own crying! I didn’t intend to write that entry, but I was halfway through my run and barely restraining tears (which I only tried doing because I’ve learned from experience crying while running–which occurs more than others might think–makes breathing awkward) when I realized I had to capture that feeling, tears, joy and all. I cried as I typed that and thought how very, very grateful I am to have this community, which I can participate in fully without feeling the exhaustion I often do in love social situations. I kind of imagining us all in blogland being connected heart to heart instead of keyboard to keyboard.

  23. August 17, 2011 at 8:07 am

    This is such a perfect lesson in shutting up that brain and keeping it moving! We are so quick to quit with our heads when our body, our writing, whatever still has enough brawn to keep going!

  24. August 17, 2011 at 10:45 am

    OK this just got me going. I’m supposed to have my Section 4 and 5 finished this week and I have been stuck. Like seriously avoidance stuck. But after reading this, I am so doing it!! Thanks superhero! πŸ˜‰

    • August 20, 2011 at 5:06 am

      Woo-hoo! These are awesome words to read! How did that go/is that going? Rootin’/cheerin’ over here!

      Oh, also? What I said about finishing the book? It’ll unlikely be this weekend on account of (a) Li’l D realizing his bedroom does not in fact have a force field around it (“I can come and say hi to Mommy and Daddy whenever I want!”) and (b) Ba.D. having injured his shoulder in such a way that he can’t do a lot to manage our little monkey by himself, what with having one arm. I know I could be starting/writing that last long scene instead of typing comments right now, but this is my therapy!

      I’m hoping next week is a little gentler all around πŸ™‚

  25. August 17, 2011 at 11:31 am

    Wow you ran a marathon! I am amazed! You are doing so many things I’m a little intimated πŸ˜‰ Very inspiring!

    • August 20, 2011 at 5:07 am

      It’s my greatest aspiration to be an inspiration (hee), so these words are magic to me. Thank you! I hope you’re considering trying some things you’re not sure you can do, so that when you’re done with them, you can experience the sheer joy of going, “Take that, suckaz!” πŸ˜€

  26. August 18, 2011 at 5:15 pm

    I’m impressed you ran a marathon on a dare with little preparation and completed it. Whoa! Now you’ve got gumption girl and if you could do that, you could do anything… Life is a race of sorts isn’t it? We meet Sherlocks, supporters and detractors along the way… The key is to stay the course and I applaud you. Loved this post; especially as I used to run daily myself but never really enjoyed it. πŸ™‚

    • August 20, 2011 at 5:10 am

      The key is to stay the course
      Sometimes that’ll be easier than others, and sometimes the course will deviate further from the planned one by much further, but if it’s stayed, there are so many wonderful things possible.

      I was thinking a lot about Sophie Scholl yesterday. She was executed at 22 for her involvement in the peaceful White Rose resistance agains Hitler. Her final words? “Such a fine, sunny day, and I have to go, but what does my death matter, if through us thousands of people are awakened and stirred to action?” Talk about inspiration for staying the course! I’d love to live with her conviction and love, while running and when not.

  27. August 18, 2011 at 9:52 pm

    You make me want to go for a run and I don’t even like running anymore. Good for you on exceeding your expectations

    • August 20, 2011 at 5:18 am

      Thanks! That’s something I’ve pretty consistently done since. Perhaps it’s that I’m aiming too low, but I think instead that it’s a reflection of becoming more and more comfortable with one’s enormous capacity the more one pushes its boundaries. πŸ™‚

  28. August 19, 2011 at 3:16 am

    Impressive β€”> You running a marathon (I can barely run a mile) and the power of encouraging words! Truly inspiring!

    • August 20, 2011 at 5:28 am

      Thanks! Most people laugh at me when I recommend they do it, too, but it really is the most amazing feeling to cross that finish line and know what strong stuff you’re made of. I touched on it in another entry:

      People often say to me, β€œI could never run a marathon!”

      Couldn’t you, though? If there was a chance it would save your mom, or your sister, or husband, wouldn’t you? Call me a fool, or naive, but I believe you could. I believe you would.

      I believe you would know the agony of being so tired you can’t keep your chin up. Of being so tired you want to strip naked just to take another pound off the load you’re carrying. And I believe that you would also know, when you crossed that finish line bawling, exactly what you are capable of surviving. You’d know that the victory is so sweet because the tribulations were so bitter.

      It’s true of marathons, but no less true for life.

      That’s a feeling I would with everyone to have for themselves: that no matter how tough it got, by their fortitude they’d see it through to the gentler times.

  29. August 19, 2011 at 2:47 pm

    Wow. I am not a marathon runner nor will I ever be one but I have a ton of admiration for people who are!

    I could come in dead last and I’d be just as proud. It’s quite an accomplishment.

    • August 20, 2011 at 5:29 am

      When I started really flagging, that was what I kept telling myself: It doesn’t matter how fast I make it there, as long as I make it there in the end. Totally true. πŸ˜€

  30. August 19, 2011 at 11:24 pm

    Wow. Thank was a fantastic share! I kept reading your tale, silently cheering you on in my head as my eyes took it in. And equating it to the guts it takes to do anything out of our comfort zones really spoke to me, thank you. :>

    • August 20, 2011 at 5:32 am

      Thank you for reading, and commenting!

      the guts it takes to do anything out of our comfort zone
      This is something I think about a lot, since I started blogging! I write something really raw and hard to publish (like Dead Moms Can’t Care) and sit wondering if I ought actually reveal that much of myself. Then I go for it, and find the rewards–in support, in learning other peoples’ experiences–are so very great. I love the process of expanding that comfort zone to where I want it to be. πŸ™‚

  31. August 20, 2011 at 4:28 am

    I love this perspective. I love the way it was written. I love the honesty. And seriously, way to muster up what it took to finish! That’s so amazing!

    • August 20, 2011 at 5:33 am

      Thank you for this awesome comment! I hope you’ll find what it takes to finish your next big challenge, and that the next one comes even easier after that, and so on πŸ™‚

  32. August 24, 2011 at 2:35 am

    Finally I have time to read this post. I been reading it on and off for a while now. Today you have my full attention. It is funny how we as people have a hard time believing in ourselves but others believe in us easily. And even we believe in others easily then ourselves. Weird right. I am glad that man shouted out to you and gave you that push you needed. Well done on the marathon and well done believing in you!

    • August 25, 2011 at 5:58 am

      Every time I look at that picture, I think of what it would have looked like without Sherlock shouting out that comment! Now I’m able to look at it think, “No matter how tired I felt, I looked like I could kick some butt, and I did it!” It’s a powerful thing to be able to see that reflected in the physical world when I’m struggling with something.

  33. April 17, 2012 at 12:03 pm

    Love this post! Especially “But I believe more and more each day races are finished with the support of the people whose faith in us helped us overcome our own doubts before and during, and whose Gatorade and movie marathons afterward remind us that we’ll make it through the challenges to come, too.” Somehow it’s easier to plow through really hard stuff–whether it’s that last few miles or major life issues or even just a bad day–knowing that we have some kind of support.

    Also, you ran over 26 miles!!! That’s amazing, dude.

  1. October 18, 2011 at 5:50 pm
  2. January 22, 2012 at 5:10 pm
  3. February 10, 2013 at 8:06 am
  4. May 7, 2014 at 4:26 am
  5. May 19, 2014 at 7:17 am
  6. February 3, 2016 at 4:12 am

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