Mile 24 of the Twin Cities Marathon, October 2019: man, my feet hurt. My mind is exhausted, I am not energetic or fresh, and I NEED to POOP! I hear my friend’s voice from the side of the course and I cry, “I need to use the bathroom!” She yells in reply, “THERE ARE BATHROOMS AT THE FINISH LINE!”
When I pass Dale Street, I know it’s mostly downhill from here. There’s no pushing the pace, and there’s no slowing down. All I have to do is just keep moving. This is Saint Paul, my home turf. I have seen college teammates, current teammates, people from my coaching group, people from my lunchtime running crew, even my physical therapist along the course. When I turn just past Ramsey Street, I know it should be cake from here, but it sure doesn’t feel like it. Once I pass the cathedral, I know that this is going to happen. I am going to finish the marathon. The finishing chute is a tunnel-vision, all-I-have-left experience.
And then it’s over. I hear my name on the loudspeaker and slow to a walk, bent over and breathing heavy. I can’t hear anything anymore, and all I feel is awe. Read more >>