Give Me 50 Feet... #AndSomeFansToo

There was this time when I thought it would be a great idea to move to New York. In my mind, I saw New York City. In my contract, the city listed was located in upstate New York. I grew up in California so you probably know where this is going, right?

Winter came. It never left.

So I got up outta there.

But before I left, I met my life partner. I know what you’re thinking. I said I was single. Well, I am, because ain’t no flowers come for me on Valentine’s Day. Think of it this way. He and I will absolutely get married and have (adopt) babies for tax purposes. We have a wonderful relationship with each other and we prefer to have our relations with other people. This is the only open type of commitment I would accept - one with him exactly as I described.

So there was this one day we were at work and I was having the worst day. I could not figure out why I was in such a foul mood. This was beyond my normal woman issues, petty issues, or hunger issues. I gave him a call to figure out what was going on with me, because in (un)healthy relationships, your partner often knows you better than you know yourself. The diagnosis?

We shouldn’t have watched A Time To Kill last night…

He right. The bruised, beaten, and battered blood of the ancestors was boiling in my blood all-the-day long. It simmered in my soul while I slept the evening prior. I mean every person who didn’t look like me just...well, I just could not even. Even over the phone. It was like, why are you even calling me? Sure I’m the person responsible for that task and you are required to speak to me about it, but you need to gone away from me with that right now Paul.

So before Evelyn from the Internets gave calling in black a name to the prescription to watching A Time To Kill the night before work, that’s really what I needed to do. I needed time to be Black in a safe space because we know that being Black at work isn’t always safe (like well, just being Black wherever you are because, well, you know…listen to Evelyn).

It just so happens that in some Last Week Tonight marco polo news, Jigs was in a staff meeting feeling like LeBron, but left the meeting sick of they ish like Rajon. LeBron was you sitting at the end of the conference room table with a few empty seats between you and everyone else because you have a "cough" trying to disguise your whole attitude as a partial sinus issue ... Rajon is you basically going to another team meeting because, just no, God, please no.  Rajon Rondo is me, is you, he is all of us mapping out the route to California Pizza Kitchen for an afternoon cocktail just *clap* as *clap* soon *clap* as the meeting ends. Have you ever been in a meeting, being the only kind of person that looks like you, and seeing it as a perfect opportunity to reclaim the dignity stripped away from your Great Uncles and Aunties at the hands of jim(bob)crow? Well, there we find Jigs.

It just so happens the film review was about The Help. I can’t even. A group of non black women sitting around a conference table talking about how wonderful a movie was, centered around the life of Jig’s great grandmother likely cleaning the floors and nursing the babies of the people that eventually birthed the people that birthed them. You know how they do – like ole girl on the streets of San Francisco – they say they loved the movie because it’s about black people, but somehow they totally get how awful that time was and how terribly black people were being treated. It’s totes wrong, like OMG, soooo terrible. But they did a wonderful job on the movie. Also, I did not vote for Trump.

...then they reach a hand out towards your fresh twist out without even asking. They mispronounce your name though you put a phonetic pronunciation in your email signature six years ago. But that’s not the worst of it. They actually treat you like, well, the *&^%^  &^^%  %#&## help! Sure you’re not in the office Viola stomping back and forth from the fax machine, but they’re part reason that the Eff it, I’ll do it. - signed Black Women, meme is a whole fact.

It just so happens that Jigs and I had a similar response to this at-work experience.

We left. Ain’t nobody got time for that.

I Hate Jigs #TurkeyTrot2k15

I hate Jigs. Like I maybe liked her at one point in my life, but now? This point? Nope. #choices

Running is one of the most amazing, torturous experiences that have embarked on. Challenging in the best ways. And the perfect yin to my sweet potato pie binging yang. I have learned so much about myself and my will to achieve in these few years.

Like, the fact that: I. Hate. Running. In. The. Cold.

Which leads us back to my first statement. I hate Jigs. See, why did she have to be so wonderful and so lovely, and so good to me, and have a birthday, and get me all excited about running the Turkey Trot (again), and seeing her cross the finish line again. It’s all her fault!

Like why in the world would the sky gods allow the temperature stick to get below 40°? That is not the proper weather to be in a mood to give thanks. Like what am I thankful for below 40°? The warmth I have yet to lose?

Running in the cold is stupid. Happy Birthday Jigs.

START: I’m pretty sure I am in the wrong corral. Not on purpose like Vegas. Definitely on accident like I’m not moving away from the start line just to find the right corral. Nope. #MoreChoices

Mile 1: Take me away in a manger it is cold out here. Who turned off Nana’s heater to the Bay Area? Hace frio homey! Hace. Frio.

Mile 2: I don’t want to do this. I really don’t.

Mile 3: I have 3.2 miles left. I wonder how I would have figured that out using Common Core Math?

Mile 4: I always regret not taking the turn off for the shorter distance race at this point. What is the mile point exactly? *looks over at the Nike run app on the arm of the lady next to me* Eh. 4.7? I’m a quitter at 4.7miles – who knew?

Mile 5: I’m can’t believe I have been running this long and my body hasn’t warmed up. Like in my core, it’s like Elsa shot me with an ice dart or something. I want to build a snowman.

Mile 6: Those people look like they’ve finished. Naw, they were probably just out here supporting a friend or something. They don’t have medals around their necks. Like, why would they leave a race (like my sister) without their medals?

Mile 6(0.2): Oh my God. Are there no medals?!?!?!! I did not just go through that for NO. FREAKIN. MEDAL!!! Oh Hell Naw!!!!

FINISH: This is the worst race ever. I really hate Jigs.

And even though I knew, I traversed the Finish Line Festival feverishly looking for a medal. Because, who would spend their Thanksgiving morning NOT eating everything, out here running, and return home with nothing. It was like my very own grail quest…but there no clues, no signs, not markers that I was almost there. Nothing.

I mean, last year I left here with a medal. I was the talk of Thanksgiving Dinner! And by talk of Thanksgiving Dinner, everyone talked about how crazy I was to go running at the dinner table. Like I said…the talk of Thanksgiving! How can I have that kind of greatness without a medal Lord God??

I wandered aimlessly. So disappointed. I tried! I legit tried to do well at this race even with the cold! It was like a #LasVegasRedeption. I mean, the #ColdRainyWind without the #RainyWind. I can be great now! Well, greater than I was in Nevada at least. But no. I work all hard. Run all fast (read: not quite slow, but…). All for what?!?!! #NoMedal

Look, it’s like this. It’s not that every race I run HAS to have a medal. It’s just that, if I get out there and run, I’m expecting one, so, even if I’m the only person you give a medal to, that’s what you should probably do. My sense of accomplishment and validation that I am someone special is directly correlated with the shine of the bling about neck. And I have none. *wow…my future husband has his hands full…I am kind of a mess…welp*

…and since I’ve said nicer things about bad hair cuts, high gas prices, and shoes that give you bunions, I’ll just end with that.

Stupid Turkey Trot. #iHateJigs

#15ThingsIn2015 Challenge

5 new states (Louisiana, Texas – 2 down, 3 to go) #iShouldWorkOnThisOne #2MonthsLeft

4 new friends (OldieButNewbie #RunningHubby; My Child; WickedWineRunCrew (6 people!); Ragnar Napa Valley (10 people!); Cuzzo; NotQuiteTwinSister & BruinBuddy – 22 down)

3 new running events (Shamrock Half; St Charles Road Race; Orange County Half; Wicked Wine Run; Ragnar Napa Valley; Let’s Go 510…5k; Monster Dash 5k – 7 down)

2 back-to-back running events (Rock N Roll San Jose 5K & Half; Ragnar Napa Valley & Let’s Go 510…5K, Rock N Roll Las Vegas 5K & Half, 3 down)

1 Half Marathon PR (Rock N Roll San Diego Half! 6 minutes!, Rock N Roll Las Vegas 5K – 35 seconds to spare! – 2 down!)

1 Run A Race Without A Medal Because I Guess That’s A Thing Now -_- (SJ Turkey Trot 2015, 1 down)

DubsWin, so WeRun #LetsGo510

See, when you’re me, you’ve got to have a sense of humor about this running stuff. Because, well, you sometimes plan running events in the same weekend. Which isn’t abnormal, per say #Such&Thus. I mean, a couple of remix challenges, running this event last year the day before Rock n Roll Los Angeles. The idea of this isn’t new. It’s actually part of your #15in2015. Right? You out here running #Back2Back #twice like Drizzy. Like nobody who knows you is surprised by your behavior at all.  

What’s different? You actually didn’t intend for it to work out this way. You actually thought that this event was on a different weekend. And you were excited about the fact that you’d get to run consecutive weekends.

You need a personal assistant. You need your google calendar to assume human form. And follow you around.

But I gotta do it. It’s #RunningHubby’s last event of the challenge. He’s taken down an #8k on a bum toe, a #12k with you nowhere in sight of the finish as he crossed, and now this #10k. You gotta be there for it. All of the distances. All of the finishes. All of the medals. All of the challenges.

Just not there in the doing the #10K sense of being there. Because you’re a Ragnarian now. And, well, you’ve been sleeping in a SUV. And, well, you really don’t wanna. So, just no. There’s a #5k. Just do that. #ankle #ItsOkayToUnderachieveOnce #TabWouldBeProud 

START: It’s me and you Jigs. Let’s get it.

Mile 1: Hmmm. It’s been a while since I’ve walked a race. This actually feels good. Seriously, I should do this more often.

Mile 2: Or nah. I kind of get why I run now. I’d like for this to be over Jesus. #iUnderstandYouNowAlicia #SprintUpTheHills #GetItOverAlready

Mile 3: Wait, what happened to Jigs? Oh, there she is. Oh, now I know what I gotta do. She’s about to hate me. I think I like it.

Mile 3(0.1): Oh, she’s about to get this PR. And a kill. C’mon Jigs!!!!

FINISH: Yassssssss! She did that! That girl never stood a chance!!!! I’m so proud! She killed this 5k!

Mile 6(0.2): eeeeek. They look upset. Maybe I should start cheering and get all happy and whatnot and they’ll forget they just ran 6.2 miles without me.

(their)FINISH: Whatever you do girl, Do. Not. Break. Character. Turn-The-Eff-Up!

I did what I said I would do. I was present for every run. I started with him. And at the very last one, I got to see him finish. I was able to witness his first steps, and welcome in his last with clapping, cheering, and a shiny new medal. I’ll never know what he became. I think I want to, but it's not for me to know. It was always and only for me to do what I said I would do. Be there. He asked me not to leave him, and I never did. I think that I believe that everyone is going to have some life changing experience from all of this. That they are going to get hooked on the feeling like Tyrone Biggims is on crack #hooked #addicted #ItsSoContagious. But I don’t think it’s that way – and I’m not sure it’s that way for him. But whatever it was, I hope it was worth it.

It’s an amazing feeling seeing your friends achieve their goals. #RunningHubby wasn’t the only person who set out to do something great. Meanwhile, behind the scenes, all stealthy like a fighter jet, Jigs #AngelicaRollerskates been out here marching for miles and medals. A quiet commitment to something greater than herself. I think it was just how she wanted it to be. Something personal, something just for her, something to prove something else to herself. I hope it taught her whatever it was suppose to teach her too…and then a little something else. It’s always the unexpected lessons, those unknown things we come to know about ourselves by surprise that grow us. I imagine she didn’t think she had it in her to sprint that last leg of the race. I wish she could have seen the smirk on her face as she crossed the finish line. It was everything.

…and that’s #Year2 of the #RunTheBay challenge. I'm not doing this again. I mean, it's not a chore or anything to do. But, really, why would you do something AGAIN, after you literally just did it AGAIN??? 

I was prepared to hang the medals up until they told me what you get in #Year3.

A medal rack.

FuhK. I’ll be back. #2016 #TheYearOfRagnar #andTheRunTheBayChallenge 
#Again #andAgain #andOneMoTime #ForTheOrangeCameraAndMedalRack

#15ThingsIn2015 Challenge

5 new states (Louisiana – 1 down, 4 to go) #iShouldWorkOnThisOne

4 new friends (OldieButNewbie #RunningHubby; My Child; WickedWineRunCrew (6 people!); Ragnar Napa Valley (10 people!) – 18 down, -12 to go)

3 new running events (Shamrock Half; St Charles Road Race; Orange County Half; Wicked Wine Run; Ragnar Napa Valley; Let’s Go 510…5k – 6 down, -3 to go)

2 back-to-back running events (Rock N Roll San Jose 5K & Half; Ragnar Napa Valley & Let’s Go 510…5k – 2, 0 to go)

1 Half Marathon PR (Rock N Roll San Diego! 6 minutes! – 1 down, 0 to go)

Really Bad Life Choices

Why am I even here? You know that’s a great question. I’m here because I’m the Runleader and I love my running crew. Where’s the crew? Funny you should ask. Well, Alicia Keykey is here running with one of her homeys. I’ll catch up with her another time. Rest of the crew? Well, Pearl ain’t great, so she’s not coming, MY (running)Husband didn’t sign up because he doesn’t listen to me which sometimes makes our (running)marriage work #donthatehowwelove, and Angelica. Well, she’s on her way. Let’s just hit her up and see where she’s at…

Oh. You’re injured? You’re not coming? As in, the only reason I was doing this race was because you wanted to run it. Being, that I’m out here, with all these old wrinkly white people – for nothing? You did not have fun last year! Okay, well you kinda did, but… No. Just no.

I hate my friends. But, I love medals, so I mean, there is a silver lining. And who knows, maybe I’ll run into (not literally on today) someone I know and we can have some fun. Okay, not the end of the day. Let’s do this.

(Not Really) START: Oh, this isn’t the start line? You let me into the race about 5 blocks up from the start. *devil on my shoulder*: GURL!!!! Start running now! Literally nobody will know! Get that good 12K time!

*walks briskly to the actual start line*

(Actual) START: I should have just started running. I’m never going to be great… *le sigh*

Mile 1: San Francisco is disgusting. And, so is this race. Why am I even here? Oh, yea, Angelica. #ThatPartTho

Mile 2: You know the messed up part about this race? You don’t even finish where you start. I got to make all of these miles back up trying to get home. *approaches Hayes Hill*

Mile 3: That damn hill. Why must we not only be tortured by this hill, and what seems to be the best party ever?! OMG! If they didn’t look do drunk, dirty, disheveled, and destitute, I might try to stop and get my poorty on.

Mile 4: Yea, this was a pretty turrible idea. All of these wrinkled nekkid bodies. Was this what the 60s were like? #80sBaby

Mile 5: It’s cold. I want to go home. This isn’t fun at all. Why do I do this to myself? I’m not very good to me. I should seek help. Or wine. Seek wine to help.

Mile 6: This. Is. My. Jaaaaaammm! Yo, don’t sleep on The Band Perry! Yasss Girl! #ButterscotchHair #FirstComesTheInkThenComesTheRing *just forgot everything I thought at mile 5 and starts getting my entire life on the pavement*

Mile 7: Yes little kid. I saw that too. I know what you’re thinking. He looks like/reminds you of your grandpa and you don’t know how to deal with that. You’re contemplating your relationship with PopPop now seeing this old guy sans clothing. The PTSD you’re going to experience from this will last you a lifetime.

Mile 7(0.4): Gurl, keep looking forward. Don’t even make eye contact with the people giving out the medals. You can’t clothes-check everyone.

         

Finish: Go. Home. Now. This is just bad. I’m not sure this was even worth it. Look at this basic booty butt medal?!?! For all I just had to see? For shame Zappos! For Shame!!!!!

I’m pretty pissed at this point. This medal is so basic, I’m not sure I’ll ever intentionally show it to anyone and feel any sense of achievement. It’s turrible…just turrible. I’m sure this is going to be one of the worst #MedalMondays ever because I’ll have to show it.

I’m never doing Bay to Breakers again. And by never doing it again, I already told my friend in Arizona that I’ll let her know when the super cheap one-day registration comes out so we can do this race together.

You know, being the Runleader is a thankless job sometimes.

#15ThingsIn2015 Challenge

5 new states (Louisiana – 1 down, 4 to go)

4 new friends (OldieButNewbie #RunningHubby; My Child – 2 down, 2 to go)

3 new running events (Shamrock Half; St Charles Road Race – 2 down, 1 to go)

2 back-to-back running events

1 Half Marathon PR

I Gobbled My Time #TurkeyTrot #Race18Medal17

And if by gobbled one means that I gobbled everything on my plate in my own time, then yea…I gobbled my time. But, I’m thinking that’s not what they meant. Oh, okay.

Its Thanksgiving morning and I am dragging. Jesus be a fire burning in my bones…because I am COLD! Starting to remind me of that Do the Double madness. Why does it have to be so cold. This Is California!!!! *in my this is Sparta voice*

But I am out here for a great and super important reason. For two great and super important reasons, actually. #HalfMarathonInFeburary kick off run (JustBob) and #4in2014 with Angelica Rollerskates. When you’ve achieved your goal early, and there is more time, you fill that time with helping other people get to the finish. Because, lest you forget, there was a time when you were reaching for a goal, and they were there, helping you. I don’t finish, until we all finish. Which means you haven’t finished your #14in2014 at all.

START: I am so hungry. And I left my bottle of water on the counter. I am so sleepy Jesus! I didn’t even cook the full Thanksgiving meal and I am so tired. This can’t be right.

Mile 1: Crap! I started playing the wrong playlist!!! I’m all off my game this morning… This waistband holder thing is awesome. It actually feels weird not running with stuff in my hands. Why did I wait so long to get one of these?!?!

Mile 2: Okay, let’s get it. Get your head back in the game. There are still more medals to be won. Still more running to do. Still more pavement to pound. You want that sweet potato pie, dontcha? Yea… Well act like it! Run dammit! Okayee…*sniffles*

Lady to her son: I’ve got a credit card if you can find us an open Coffee Shop! Do you see one?

Me: Wait, what? She is soooo serious tho. This little boy is hella strung out on caffeine.

Mile 3: You know, there was a 5K option for today. Just saying. You could be heading home and closer to eating Thanksgiving Dinner, you know. Oh, no. You’re not about that life. You want to overachieve and whatnot. This is fun…going above and beyond your own limits. Oh, um…just hungry…checking, I mean, just checking. My feet like, hurt… What’s up with these shoes tho?

Mile 4: Mimosa Station. Are they making mimosas for runners? This by far is the GREATEST run in the history of running. I love the City of San Jose.

Mile 5: Maybe a mimosa wasn’t the best thing on an empty stomach. Maybe. Well, empty save the jelly belly energy beans I only ate because I was hungry. Been in this waist belt since Las Vegas. Tasty. You know, that was actually a really good idea! You’re so smart. Pat yourself on the back!

Mile 6: Yea, the mimosa was a bad idea. Um, like a really awful one. I, Hurt.

Mile (6)0.2: That was the fastest 0.2 miles in my life! You mean I’m finished?! You mean I actually saw the finished line and crossed it before I coughed out a lung? You mean to tell me I might have actually taking a good finish line picture?! This. Is. Amazing!

FINISH: Yes, I think I am going to eat every sweet potato pie I see. I think it, before I am *eating all the pies*. My feet hurt. *looks down at shoes*

The San Jose Turkey Trot was awesome! Aside from the cold and the unorganized starting coral for the 8 – 9 mile runners, it was fantastic! A great course through downtown. Through it did not have the crowd fanfare as most running events do, I enjoyed the quiet. The sounds of runners. The children dragging their parents at Mile 1…and parents dragging their children at Mile 5.

Palmer College of Chiropractic. Yea, I didn't try to explain this.

I started the event with Soccer Dad JustBob. He had a hundred thousand questions, wonders, statements, anxieties, observations… Just everything. And I? I was so calm. So “all-knowing” as it seemed. So ready to just get it on. I imagine I was just like him those first few running events. But too many have passed that I can’t remember any of it. I’ve done just enough to be settled. I am incredibly thankful that people run “with” me. That they trust me, no matter how crazy it sounds or feels to them.

I finished the event with Angelica Rollerskates. I patiently waited for her to finish #Race3Medal3 of her #4in2014 so that we could take a picture…so we know it’s real. I waited in the photo line for her to pick up her medal and find me. While I was there, I noticed these two older black women running who wanted to take a photo. They got a little discouraged when they saw the line. So, I casually C’d my way into their A & B conversation and invited them to join the line with me. I’m thankful for the looks on their faces as they posed for their pictures. I hope, when I reach those years, I’ll be side by side with my friend, as I am on this day, still running, still taking pictures, hair still wrapped up.

A girl can dream.

This Race: Applied Materials Silicon Valley Turkey Trot, 10K, San Jose CA
Medaled Miles to date: 99.17 miles

Total Raced Miles to date: 122.27 miles 

-3 Medals To Go ǁ 121% Complete

(Challenge Medal 4, 21 Medals ǁ 150% Complete)

#4in2014 = #14in2014 ...it's like the same thing.

More like #44in2014

I bet you wonder, just where I’ve been, huh? #thisisalateblogpost #readitlikeit’sMarch2014

Sure you have. I’ve been working. Working hard for the money. But…not too hard to keep at this running thing. #14in2014 is a serious matter. So serious.

Amidst a crazy work week, I got a facebook post from the one, the only, Angelica Rollerskates. You know, that sister from another Mama and Mister. We grew up in the house of the Father, the Son & Holy Spirit together! Easter speeches, Vacation Bible School, Church picnics and Christmas plays – we have seen it all…from the choir stand! Anyway, she shared a link to a race she wanted to do in Fremont. You know me – I went through the standard #14in2014 litmus test:

  

1.    Does it include a medal?

2.    Is it already on my list of “14” races?

My First Race Calendar #withmorepostitnotes

3.  Do I have another race that weekend? 
......#IdTotallyDoMoreThan1inAWeekend #DoTheDouble

4. What about that tech tee? *you know #BBP don’t like running in cotton, especially since they also do bikram yoga now… #BrandNew #YeaIFiredShotsAtYouEBoogie*

What were Angelica Rollerkates’ answers?

1.    Yup.

2.    Nope – just found it. It’s not on the pdf list of “14” races you email to me.

3.    Naw, don’t think so.

4.    Huh?

So I was soooooo down to do it, right? I agreed in that post. Of course I’ll run. Then I realized the date of the race. Saturday. As in the Saturday following the Friday, which was after the Thursday, which happened to be next to the Wednesday neighboring the Tuesday night we had this conversation. As in the same week.

We registered for Zoom! Quarry Lakes on Wednesday.

On Thursday a post with some of the prettiest sunflowers (reminding me of that field I blogged about) appeared on my page. A thank you from another someone finding her way running. I sent her compression socks as a way for me to be part of her first race experience this upcoming May since I am not sure if I will be able to make it to Florida to run it with her. She needs me there. However I can get there. If I can.

We made our race day plans Friday. Which include picking up our “packets” an hour before the race because, well, some races don’t come with expo’s… *insert A Runner's Face When*

In an earlier reflection, I thought about having a first-time race expo experience with that hot chocolate guy. It was only a fleeting thought about doing a race with someone; a race that did not include a medal. A race that would not get me any closer to my #14in2014, but somehow closer to something else. Something unknown. But, something totally awesome and worth it. And that somehow made that race count. It made that race part of #14in2014 – and part of the mileage of my #14in2014.

So I knew that going in to this, I would have a few more than 14 races. What I did not realize was that I would have people really buying into to what this means for me. And them finding a way for it to mean something for them. On Wednesday, after Angelica registered for the race, she tagged me in a post, proclaiming her year. Her 2014.

Her 4 in 2014.

She will not pay nearly as much for her races as I will probably pay in the gas alone, getting from expo, to start, from finish to home. There will not be a slew of Medal Mondays in her year. She could even finish this all before I reach the halfway point. No collection of race shirts, and pretty much everything she collects, could fit rather nicely on a wall, in a hallway separating rooms next door to each other. It is just 4 races, remember?

And yet her endeavor feels as though it has exactly the same energy, intensity, sentiment and impact. Maybe even more…or better. I started out doing this for myself. Yes, I came up with this idea with Eboogie and Dr. Splits On Trees, but it meant something very singular, very different to each one of us. Something that we never said in any of those conversations. Mostly because we did not know at that time that we would have to run each race to figure it out. We agreed to this, but we did not know why. And you really do have to run them to understand it.

There are those who would take seeing her #4in2014 post as an insult. How dare she take my thing and try to make it her thing? … The nerve of her! … Well, I never! *dramatic storm off* :::that’s how #BBP talk:::

But I don’t see it that way at all. I had a kool-aid smile so big, I wondered if the walls were about to cave in with a large red pitcher shouting, Heeeeey! I was overjoyed to see her smiling face as I finished the #408k. I really enjoyed being able to debrief my #Race4Medal3 experience over her free pizza and $4.08 mimosas. I appreciated her fawning over me in the background, so that she could get the perfect picture of my success in the foreground. In awe that she would walk a mile each way, just to be part of my thing, my day.

And I am honored. Honored that she is joining me in this exploit, by making it one of her own. We even have other friends with their own versions of #14in2014 happening this year! I am sooo excited for them!

I imagine that she is going to become something different than she could have ever imagined after #4in2014. I also am certain that now that she has agreed to do 4 races, that she will see more than 4 start and finish lines before 2014 is over #SheGotTheJuiceNow. And when she regales those around her of the pavements she’s pounded on her way to that new found self, that one amongst them will be inspired to do something great – because of her.

And that is what makes this an honor. Somebody I do not know, is going to refashion themselves into something they cannot even imagine because she and I agreed on a Tuesday, to register for a race on a Wednesday, that I forgot about on Thursday, but we still planned our race day on a Friday, so that we could find out way to a Start Line on a Saturday.