#HelpingMeLikeHella

In an earlier diatribe about my #RunningLikeHella experience, I noted something special. Something unexpected. Something that changed this whole running game for me. A friend. My friend who came looking for me, to ensure that I finished.

So here is what is interesting about all of this. It started out as an idea me and some friends came up with, right? #14in2014 born in a FB thread. Then it turned into my Race Calendar in which somehow 44 races = 14 medals, right? But before that, I had a revelation that this was bigger than me, and kind of about the other people in my village, right?

Confused? Yea. Me too.

I think I knew early on that other people would be part of my experience. That’s easy to figure out because I am #InvitingPeopleLikeHella to run with me. Like this past Tuesday night at Happy Hour. Anyone who knows me knows I’m serious about these medals and ish. Inquiring about my race experiences and seeing my eyes light up like I’m high on acid or something. I go on, and on, and on. Then it comes…almost like clockwork… “So, when are you going to run with me?” … “We can do any distance you want.” … “It doesn’t matter if you’re fast, it only matters that you start and finish!”

It feels like a canned speech. But it’s true. I mean it. Every single word.

And that was the extent of “others” as it related to #14in2014. Other people joining me for various race experiences. And me getting to be a proud “Running Mom” on their first #MedalMonday like that show with those dancing kids and those crazy Mamas.

But it’s more than that. It was that feeling I got nearing the end of that 6.6 miles journey into the depths of Hades. I wanted to quit, but I “knew” that I would not. I wanted to be faster, but my calf muscles had no fast twitch anything left for that, and really, it’s not like there were tons of people around me. I was near the end. I felt so horrible. Like I let my team down. The one time people IN the race experience were counting on me – I did not come through. I have been running The Dish, and this is how I perform on Race Day? Denzel should have put me on the bench next to Petey, because I was not giving him a star performance. #wealwaysrememberthetitans

I didn’t deserve to wear that Leg 2 t-shirt. There was nothing about what I did that was great.

 I put on my good hair to see you finish!

And like my fairy godmother (who I envision as Whitney from the made-for-TV-movie-with-Brandy version of Cinderella) waved her wand, SM and I turned the corners at the same time. She was coming from the exchange point, and me, like the phoenix crawling out of the ashes of the elevation map from the race expo.

I wanted to cry. Because I felt like I failed. Like, “Damn, they had to send a SEARCH PARTY for me?” But that is not the look she was giving me. She was happy to see me. She was cheering me on. She was encouraging me. Wait. She’s excited that I made it to this point?

You know honestly, I am getting teary eyed just thinking about it. SM is far more fit than I, physically fit and capable of moving at a pace much faster than the one bringing me in to Leg 3. She did not force me to go any faster than I could, and through that #BlackGirlRun playlist I could hear her musically muffled voice keeping me focused on my goal. On what I set out to do that morning. This past January. That day on Facebook in November. Run.

Start 14 times, and Finish 14 times, and get My 14 medals.

She would not let me quit.

It seems a small thing in the grand scheme of it all. I mean, on the surface, all she did was jog a few tenths of a mile with me, right? I mean, it’s not like she was huffing and puffing like I was at the end. It’s not like she’s even all serious about this 14 medal thing, right? Does she even know how serious this is to me? How important it is to me? How I obsess about running races? How tired my staff is about hearing about them?

She got nothing that day. No awards. No accolades. No special treatment. No supporter’s medal. Nothing. Yet, she gave more than I could have anticipated.

Help. I did not know that I would need help to do this. Like while I am running, in the process of getting from Start to Finish, that I would need help from my friends, in that particular moment.

Thank you SM for helping me finish. For helping us all to finish. So that we could all finish strong together. It meant everything to me.

Every. Single. Thing.