“Don’t poop your pants!” She yells and a laugh sputters out of me.
I grab my race bag and find a chair. Socks, shoes, tying the left one first and then the right, and I stuff a handful of gels into my race belt and clip it around my waist. I grab my visor and slide it over my forehead and run my hand down over my braid. I give my quads and hamstrings a quick pounding with my fists and setting out for a marathon.
POUNDING IT
You're not allowed to listen to music while running a competitive TitaniumPerson. All you have with you are your own thoughts.
And the funny signs.
There have been some good ones but in the last two miles, a meditative state kicked in and my footfalls were synched with the syllables of one word.
Mi-guel.
Mi-guel.
Mi-guel.
I don't fight it because it seems to be working. I check my pace against the race clocks posted every few miles and I am on-target with where I need to be at this point. I haven’t slowed down much. And, if my math is correct, there are only two athletes in front of me.
I have a chance to podium.
Looking behind me is tempting, I want to know if someone is gaining on me. But I need to run my race, at my pace, and trust my training, my instincts, and my natural talent.
Mi-guel.
Mi-guel.
Mi-guel.
There are people lining the road cheering us on but their faces all blur together. It is a straight finish up Lake Shore Drive and it is tough to tell if I am actually moving forward. I keep my eyes on the road ahead and focus on the finish line, willing it to get closer.
Mi-guel.
Mi-guel.
Mi-guel.
And like I have chanted him into existence I see him along the sideline. He's clapping and cheering and whooping loudly. And a smile cracks across my face.
My pace quickens as I hear, "You’ve got this, Laney girl!"
I allow our eyes to connect briefly as I stay on my path.
"You're killing it!" He yells as I move past him. And I feel my spine lift up higher. "Love seeing you run away from me!"
That one makes me smile.
The finish line is still ahead of me but seeing him here, feeling his support, is all the victory I need.
Dee and her family have moved from the transition area to the grandstands at the finish line. I know this because as the arch looms larger in front of me a dark haired blur starts jumping up and down screaming.
I don’t have much energy left to smile or laugh when I see herYay! You have shoes on!Sign but I feel the hint of joy in my chest.
“So proud of you kiddo!” I hear and my head whips to Dee’s section and I see my mom standing next to her clapping wildly.
I nearly trip but somehow stay upright.
Mymomis here.
