I ran. I did it. I finished it. I even escaped the imminent rapture of Super Tuck knowing he was not participating in the Oklahoma Memorial Run. However he was busy doing what he does like any other rad 4 year old who thinks he too cool for Mama cause he’s “Audmost five!”
Pre-Race supper to send me into an early bedtime coma. Chicken fry, taters and greens.
Every last bite was incredible and if my cholesterol would allow I would eat this every damn day.
A glutton for punishment for overstimulating activities I also hit the fitness expo. Again. Besides picking up some florescent pink leg sleeves I also snatched this little bad boy up. I was officially ready for anything. Let’s do this.
Up at 4am arrived by 5:30 at the starting line… well -ish there were 27,000 runners this morning so I might’ve been 6 blocks back from the official starting line.
By mile 3 my knee pain kicked in. It’s crazy. I never have to look at my gps run thingamajigger tracker app on my phone. I just know I have traveled 3 miles when the pain starts. And the prospect of a brand new knee and 6 weeks of bed rest being fed grapes and fanned with palm leaves by a cabana boy was starting to sound good.
Hush. Mama’s have dreams.
By mile 6 I found myself in an adorable little community surrounded by historic mansions and smushed in between were historic bungalow’s. I want to live THERE.
Amongst the historical architecture I saw everyone in the neighbor sitting on their front lawns cheering us on with signs and cake. Like fresh baked goods. Along with the Martha’s there were makeshift bars. Serving any mixed adult beverage your pounding heart desired. I began to believe you have arrived when folks are subbing water and Powerade for Jack and Coke.
By mile 10 I considered chewing my legs off from the knees down and damned my aching birthing hips to hell for the pain I was in.
I refused to give up if I must walk I will finish this thing.
I was absolutely beside myself and soaked. to. my. bare. bones. from the torrential down pour that started by mile 12. During my simple prayer to the man above to let there be at least one person left behind me, I could hear the cheering from the spectators and knew I was close. I finished the race with a sprint over the finish line, and a rockstar guitar jump.
I had the most enjoyable race ever with a Mama friend of mine who literally kept my spirits high and my motivation in check the entire time. She found me moments after I crossed the finish line and we found ourselves incredibly emotionally overwhelmed with what we had worked so hard for the past year.
Every day led up to this. No it wasn’t a full. No I did not get any sponsor calls for my not so graceful speed of an elephant like running style.
I do get the personal satisfaction of having a story to tell Tuck. Knock another thing off my life list and consider even 6 years ago I would’ve laughed in my own face if I had signed me up for this.
Running is not an art. It is not the easiest thing to do. But it will keep you out of therapy. And the opportunity to meet some pretty amazing honest folks who you never would have met before had you not stopped saying
“No I can’t” and just said “Why not.”