I know, I know, I am REALLY behind on writing this. I do sincerely apologize, life has been busy yet again with a time of transitioning- yet again! Rewind to last weekend: After taking my last 2 finals for school EVER I packed my shoes, a running outfit, and one other outfit and headed to the airport. After 2 connections and 3 long flights, I
zigged-
zagged my way across America to land in San Diego. Throughout the travel time I kept thinking of the race, picturing the run, picturing my family and praying somehow my older brother would be there. For those of you that don't know, my older brother was in Iraq for the last 5 months. He was suppose to come home April and run parts of the race with me. Two weeks before the race, we received an email from him saying he wouldn't be able to make it home in time. I was bummed but knew he would be there in spirit. Okay, so fast-forward to last Saturday. As we were landing I turned on my phone to let my little brother and parents know that we were running 20 min late. They were heading to the airport to pick me up. As my phone was on I received an email from James (one of Stephen's best friends) saying "I hear the boy is back..." I immediately started crying. Now to fully complete the picture, I had a woman sitting next to me from Minnesota talking (with that painful (no offense) harsh Minnesota accent) endlessly about airline miles. I didn't want to be rude, but I really DID NOT want to talk. I landed grabbed my overnight bag and headed outside to the arrival section. Within a few minutes I saw my little brother's car pulled up and through the tinted windows I could make out 4 figures. I knew the email was correct! Out popped Steve and as I rushed to give him a hug, I got honked at, yelled at and told to get out of the middle of the road! At that point I didn't care-- I was so overjoyed and overwhelmed that my brother was home & safe!!!!!
With the whole family in San Diego, it literally was the best weekend ever! We went out to dinner, hung out, and of course there was that 26.2 miles I had to run. The race started early Saturday morning. I was up at 4 AM to eat, get dressed and catch a bus up to the start line (~ 5:15AM). It was pitch black but slowly hundreds of people started rolling in. Over 16,000 people ran/walked the Rock-n-Roll Marathon! It was one unbelievable sight. The 26.2 miles were of course physically demanding with points of muscle cramping, sharp pains through the foot and muscle tightness, but it was also mentally and emotionally demanding. Before the race started the Marine Corp band marched through playing "America" songs and a Brigadier General gave the opening remarks/blessings. I of course started crying and was looked at as completely crazy (who cries like that BEFORE the race starts?!?). We then lined up and the gun sounded. I should also mention that this race had a TON of people running to raise awareness & support for cancer research. I say this because it also played a toll on me emotionally to be running behind hundreds upon thousands of "In memory of..." To all those people, thank you for your inspiration and for sharing your reason to run!
Back to the race, the first 13/14 miles, no problem. It actually felt good. At times I would catch myself almost hyperventilating from getting emotional about my bro being there and reading some of the shirts, but I took a few deep breaths and got back into my routine. I was able to catch my parents cheering me on at miles ~5 and 12. Overall, I was running a good pace but had to veer off course for a bathroom break (taking 1o minutes after waiting in line!!). Then around mile 15 I started to cramp. I stopped to stretch real quick then continued running. I was hitting a progressive wall if you would. I knew my younger brother was coming in at mile 18 so I just kept going, knowing he'll push me once he joined the race. Those 3 miles were some of the HARDEST!! I kept running dedicating a mile to various friends & family members. Before I knew it I felt a slap on the butt and a "Let's go!!" There was lil bro coming in early at mile 17.5. He is a BIG reason for me finishing the race. To back up real quick, at one point earlier in the race we had to run at least one mile if not more with the course being at a fairly steep angle forcing the left leg to run inches lower than the right. This placed excessive stress on the left IT band (muscle/tendon that runs on the outer part of your thigh) and excessive force on the right ankle. At the time it didn't feel too bad but at mile 20 or so my IT band was so inflamed it was snapping/rolling over my knee ever time I flexed it. This in combination with sharps pains coming up every time my right foot struck the ground was not a good combo. My brother was the best coach, telling me funny stories, calculating how much of the race I had done, stretching me out when I needed it and even reminding me to not compromise my gait/running pattern despite the pain and fatigue. The last 5 miles weren't all that bad. They were slow, but not too bad! The best part came when I sprinted towards the finish line!! It took about 45 min to find my family and get beer/bananas/water but it was so good to be done!!! The rest of the weekend consisted of hanging out with the family and enjoying a cloudy, cool San Diego weekend! I really could not have finished the race at a jogging pace had my brother not come in- so thank you Taylor! Also, the race inspired my mom and dad to think about doing the relay marathon next year! As for me, I loved it and will do it again next year!!! It was painful and emotionally, mentally, and physically draining but worth every single minute of it. Thank you to the City of San Diego for putting such an amazing event together. And even bigger thanks to my family for being there. To my older brother for making the sacrifice of leaving Iraq and getting little sleep to make it in time for my race- I can't tell you how much that meant to me! I love you!
