I head towards the finishers area and watch her get a medal, a thermal blanket, and a banana, and with the help of two volunteers, she slumps down to the ground and rests her arms on her knees.
I walk over and crouch down in front of her even though my muscles are tight and my knees scream in protesting pain.
"Great race Laney! You finished!" I congratulate her, knowing this is her first completed full-length TitaniumPerson event. She must be overwhelmed with pride.
She scoffs a bit as she still tries to catch her breath. "Would have been better if my fucking shoe hadn't fallen off."
"Your whole shoe fell off?"
"No, the sole. I was at mile six when I felt it flapping." She looks up at me and the defeat in her features rocks my balance. I almost fall backwards. "It was sticking to the ground a little and I started to limp to put less impact on that shoe. Then my hip started to sting so I stopped, pulled them both off, and left them on the side of the road."
"What mile was that?"
"Seven."
"You finished twenty miles in just your socks?"
"Yeah, and a lot of good it did me. I placed eleventh."
She blows out a frustrated breath and hangs her head.
"You finished eleventh in your socks?"
"Yes Miguel, mister podium regular," she sasses, "I finished eleventh and I know I'm not good enough, you don't have to rub it in."
She thinks she’s not good enough?
"Fuck that, you're amazing for finishing, let alone eleventh in your group."
"Sure, but only the top eight get invites." She says with her head still hanging.
What is going on in her twisted mind?
I’m desperate to reach out and lift her chin. She needs to raise her head and let me shower her with praise. But like this morning, I don’t know what she wants to hear from me.
"There are other qualifying races." Is the lame line I settle on.
"Sure." She shrugs.
Laney, you’re an incredible athlete and I want to help you.
Laney, with a little coaching from me you would be unstoppable.
Laney, you’re a magnetic woman and I’m under your spell and would do anything to stay close to you.
"Hey, you finished a solid race." I say gently.
"But it would have been better if I had better shit." She looks so discouraged I can hardly stand it. TPs take it out of you. Yes, you get a runners high but you're also so fucking exhausted it's tough to summon the endorphins.
But I've never seen a head hanging so low or shoulders so slumped on someone who finished.
She’s more than just physically tired.
Is it possible she’s discouraged?
That she somehow doesn’t believe in herself?
Who is in her corner reminding her of her strength?
