Well Done. Well Done, My Friend #LetThyWillBeDone

My friend revealed to me one of his fears. Getting older. I thought, of all the things in the world, why would that be his fear? He is physically strong, mentally strong, and is always in such a good mood. And honestly, he doesn’t look his age now, so by the time he gets to the age he fears, he’ll look 20 years younger than it.

So, I did what I do best. Gave him all the reasons why he shouldn’t fear getting older. As I spoke to him, I realized, I was trying to convince myself to be unafraid. Because I fear it too. But for far different reasons.

Death. I am afraid, because the older I get, the more I have to face the death. People are leaving me in this life, yo. And since no man knows the time, it’s always going to be a surprise, a shock, a something that’s so unexpected, that I will almost always, not be ready.

And I certainly wasn’t on this day.

Someone I did not spend a ton of time with, went on to see the King. True to my fashion, I bottled it up and went directly to the silence of my mind #hiding #BuildingWallsInside #KeepingTheWorldFromComingIn #InTheShadowsFeelingBlue. You would have thought that one of my cousins passed away. Like one of them, I woke up alongside Christmas morning opening presents in Texas. I felt energy leave my body. Like, I actually felt it leave. I weighed less. And I knew in that moment that I would miss the heaviness for all the rest of my days. I sat in my office, at the computer stunned. Knowing that I should probably grieve but not sure what exactly that meant in the moment.

See, if you knew this man, then you probably felt some of what I felt. Regret for not spending more time with him. Pissed that you didn’t reach out that one time he randomly crossed your mind. Wondering if you were almost as kind to him as he had always been to you – knowing that he was indeed more kind, but hoping you were almost as good in return. And why? Why him? What in the world did he do that required his life?

Then, you realized that you answered your question. Without knowing a single of his flaws (I know that they were there, without knowing a single one of them) you know that he was good anyway. I have literally never witnessed this man in a bad mood, speak a cross word, or take a picture without showing his pearly whites. Literally all of his smiles have an ageless joy in them! Wise. Smart. Happy. Giving. Encouraging. He always knew the right thing to say. Like Hell Naw! when I asked him if he was going to ice skate with us… Loving to a fault. Especially us Black folk. Yessir, he loved his people. Our lives really did matter to him, no matter what we did with them. In the time that I knew him, I never needed his help, yet I am absolutely certain that if I called him in need, he would have been there. How crazy is that? To know that to be true. #That’sFaith #BelievingInTheUnseen

#GodRevealsThingsToMeAsItypeSometimes #There’sABlessingForMeInThisBlogSomewhere

And then to know all of that is gone. That this life is less because he is no longer with us. That because so much was given to us in one man, that much more is required of us. To remember him. To speak of him. To be kind to someone else, because we cannot return the kindness to him. To love others who don’t deserve it, because he cared for us when we were undeserving, and kinda ungrateful. Because much like us children of (great) men, we friends of (great) men have a legacy to continue. We have to be more because they were. Everything about that is hard to do, because they’re not here to encourage us along the way.

We have to do it anyway.

Someone once asked me who I was. And without thinking I replied, I am the sum of all the goodness, all the kindness, all the love that others have bestowed upon me. This started with my parents, creating the vessel and showing me the first acts of love. It continued with family, with friends, and with the amazing people I have met in these 30 some odd years.

And him. Some of who I am is who he was. And so it seems that I horcruxed a little bit of him too, like Daddie's bible.

I gotta believe You know what You’re doing Lord. I just gotta. I’m not sure any of this will make any sense if I don’t believe You know what You’re doing.

Rest well. I just gotta believe that my friend is resting well. Dwell well, Reg. Dwell. #WellDone Absolutely goodness, and mercy, followed him...all the days of his life. 

January 20, 2015 #PartII

Memory. I remember that first half marathon experience so many ways. All of the emotion of running my first half marathon ever. Being in one of the lowest points of my (love) life and not really celebrating all I accomplished, because I couldn’t see myself. But the beginning was what I remember most about it.

From ending…to inception…

for. the. win! yasssssssss!

I tend to make lots of phone calls while I’m in the Dollar Tree. I mean this place is perfect for a student affairs professional. You need a basket? Bubbles? Gift Bag? Party Favors? It’s a no brainer – they’re all $1.00. Plus, I don’t do regular foil anymore, I prefer my Reyonlds Wrap pre-cut sheets – so I go to Dollar Tree. Walking around “high on ResLife” and “high on running” I called my best friend. That’s also a no brainer. If there is a random thought running through my head, he’ll indulge me. But this wasn’t exactly a random thought – this was a competition. See, before Charlie Sheen was #WINNING, we were already all over that. We aren’t the super competitive types that won’t speak to each other; we’re the perfectionist competitive types that are really concerned with doing our very best. He doesn’t care that I’m not a professional athlete – if we’re doing a 40-yard dash, I better be in it to win it… I don’t care that he’s never taken an Organic Chemistry class, he better be all over those protons, neutrons and electrons.

The Challenge. Strip. The Strip. The Strip – At Night. 13.1 most awesomely fantastical miles down the Las Vegas Strip. It’s on. It took me maybe 30 seconds to convince him to do this with me. The deal was done. The conversation was over. My bougie foil was paid for.

     

We spoke irregularly about the race in between infrequent text messages. I was heading to Las Vegas soon, so we’d really get these details together when I got there, kiss my 2 god-daughters, and finally – FINALLY meet his significant other. I was excited to meet the girls and nervous to meet her. Not for anything that she’s done (or not done), but because it’s me. The Female. The Female Best Friend. What in the world has he told her about me? Blamed on me to get out of something? (because we’ve all done this to our very best friends at one point – don’t you dare lie) What he hasn’t told her about me? You just don’t know…and a woman, walking into another woman’s space can be a recipe for disaster.

     

I’m back in Vegas baby!!! Not on the strip just yet… Hanging out on the outskirts meeting his just about whole family. They were gorgeous. Though I was so uncomfortable for the most part, I was so happy to see my friend. The man who knows me better than any other man alive. There is this overwhelming sense of peace and calm that envelops me when I am with him. I’m less worried, less anxious, less everything that I don’t need to be.

     

We sat on that couch, my family, chatting about random things. Which of course lead the discussion of how I was going to leave him in my tracks when I crossed the finish-line. The conversation was as unassembled like a 1000 piece puzzle. We talked about what I was going to wear, how long the race was, the training plan for it, the dance I was going to do at the finish line, and how it would be hella cool to run, stop by a casino, and get a drink every few miles. I could not have been happier. To do a half marathon, in Las Vegas, in the evening, with my best friend in the whole wide world running with me (part of the way…yea, we definitely were not going to be able to keep the same pace, he’s a professional athlete and my chest is the size of a small child).

     

Then she spoke. As innocently has his daughter speaks to him. Well, maybe not exclusively innocence, like 80% innocence, 20% message. That damn 20%. So it seems (things he conveniently didn’t tell me) that his significant other has always wanted to do a marathon and/or running type event with him. She didn’t seem to have as much luck with getting him on board with the idea as I had. Like I was then going to say anything about the 30 seconds it took me to get a verbal agreement from him. Nope, just like a man, unsure of how he got to this point in the relationship where he obviously did and/or said something wrong, I shut up.  

The conversation ended amicably… After all, to her, I was still more or less company, and she wasn’t going to show her spots about this – at least not yet or to me. It wasn’t my fault, or was it? I gave him the “how dare you put in the middle of that” side eye. And then, just like Chrisette, I had my epiphany. It was clear – crystal clear to me. And before I could speak the truth in my storm, I had to let my best friend have it for his.

     

There is no problem with a man and a woman being best friends. I realize this thought strikes many people as odd, if so, this means, this isn’t for them. You can’t do it. If you think it’s odd, then you have doubt, and you can’t enter into a relationship like this doubting. I’m not going to say something silly like, “to me, he is just a guy” or anything like that. My best friend is super fine – if I met a man like him on the streets that wasn’t him, that fool could get it. He’s a great guy, he has a good heart, he’s smart, he makes me laugh, and he really gets me. These are all great qualities for a mate. But they are also perfect qualities for a friend. And that is what he is to me. It wasn’t meant for us to be together – and while I don’t say that to test God, I just say that to say, today, we aren’t that.

     

But herein lies the rub. I can get him to do just about anything with me. And much like my father’s love, I dare not abuse that. We like to compete – so if one of us lays down a challenge, the other is accepting, bottom line. It’s more than our pride though. We’ve seen each other through some really amazing times, and we’ve had to stand beside each other all by ourselves. We know things about each other we’ve only told each other, things we have entrusted to each other that we’ve never spoken aloud. We have a very special connection. Something many people may not ever really understand. And we really don’t care. We are who we are.

     

It was crystal clear! She doesn’t hate me. She can’t hate me; she doesn’t know me. And the reality is, it’s a rare person that actually “hates” me. Who doesn’t love a Leo? But what she will hate, or dislike, or what will always give her pause, is that there is a woman (no matter the relationship) that can convince her man to do something, to go somewhere, to get something, to say something…there is this woman who is connected to her man in a way that she will never be – because he has a female for a best friend.

Memory. He didn’t run that race with me officially that day. But I would not have finished without out him convincing me to start. And every time I thought about quitting, I thought about him. It was literally the only thing that kept me going. Not the music, the water, the gu, or the thought of a hot shower. It was him. I’d like to think that I ran that first half marathon for myself. It sure started out that way – as something for me. But it was all for him. It was a gift to him. A sign that I was on my way to finding myself again.

And he loved it.

I went back to Vegas in 2013 and did it for myself.

And he loved that even more.

January 20, 2015

Memory. For many years, my best friend in the whole wide world never remembered my birthday. He was always doing something football related. The day would come. Someone would eventually remind me that it was my birthday. I would spend the rest of the day (not) celebrating. And the day would end. Like clockwork, two days later he’d call and wish me a happy birthday as if I in fact, was born on the 20^th of my birth month. Funny. He was born on this day, the 20^th, the first month of the year.

Now that we’re older and grown(er), he calls on my birthday. I hear my beautiful goddaughters with their Happy Birthday GodMother! shouts. Then he gets on the phone and we talk. He usually has some inappropriate birthday wish for me. I chuckle uncontrollably. Then we end the conversation. Without saying it, we thank the Lord for another year we’ve been blessed with, and being able to be the same old us.

Memory. You know, I started this blogging ish because of something I wrote. It wasn’t on purpose at all. I did not get that medal in Las Vegas after I finished my first half marathon. So, I wrote the Competitor Group a letter. I shared it with Alicia maKeykey. She could not believe it. I added it to that thing I called a book. Then she made me read it aloud to people like Carrie Bradshaw. And, it became my very first blog post on these here internets.

But when you read about it, or see it mentioned in my hashtags, it just seems like all the other races. The good, the bad breathing while running, the AWESOME playlist, the crazy runners around me, the finish…everything except the medal. And mostly, that’s true. But this race was unlike any other race for a couple of reasons:

It was my very first half marathon.

My best friend was with me the whole time.

Memory. I remember this race experience so many different ways. This race experience will always be that way, because he was part of it. From ending…

The first man I ever said “I love you” to was my father. He gave me life, and I repaid him with love. And because we love each other, we never take advantage of everything it means. We speak our truths and our “I love you’s.”

The second man I ever said “I love you” to was my best friend. It was not planned. I wasn’t exactly the emotional type back then, so it surprised me when I said it. I was probably more shocked that after I said it, I didn’t even think about taking it back. Hold up... I meant it? Well damn, I sure did. I didn’t feel uneasy, or awkward. I felt free. Like I finally repaid that $10 I didn’t want to borrow, or returned that book I used last quarter. He looked up at me and told me he loved me too. We exchanged love like Monday Night Football highlights. We got each other up to speed on the catches and missed tackles, then went on to the next discussion topic.

We never talk about that day. We don’t ever need too. We know what we are to each other, and that is enough. I was there to make sure he believed in love, so until he finds love, he has me. And he was there to share my life with – and until I find someone to share it with, he’ll be the one at the finish line in all my competitions. And he was.

In 2011 I ran (or something like it) a half marathon in Las Vegas. On the strip. At night. Strip At Night. I was too busy drowning in my sorrows to see how proud of me he was. To see me being all the things he knew me to be, when all I could see was what I wasn’t. Those damn “nots” – they are so binding. That’s the thing about him. How he sees me. I’m not the sum of my “nots”…as I tend to see myself. If you were to ask me what I was, I’d tell you all that I wasn’t. Ask him though… To him I’m not a sum of my nots… He doesn’t see what I lack, for all that I am. I’m intelligent. A great cook. An artist. A prolific writer. A loving person. I’m going to be a great mother, he says. I’m an awesome sister. I make my parents proud. Oh, I’m brave, confident, fearless.

He didn’t deserve what he took for me, on my behalf that day, and I don’t deserve him still. He walked with me step by step as my corral migrated to the front smiling the entire time, he celebrated my finish before I could even see my start, he watched me jump the road blocks as my corral left me while I was waiting for the bathroom, and most importantly he photographed me at the completion of 13.1 medal-less miles so I would never forget how incredibly defeated and depleted I looked at the end. I stood – barely – in the lobby of the MGM Grand and thought about my life and the decisions I made which led me to that place that particular day. I would have cried, but losing any more liquid in the moment would have literally ended me. And when I couldn’t take another step, he made footprints for the both of us.

Crossing the finish line I still didn’t see it. How many people do I actually know, run in distance races, let alone half marathons? Oh man, he was sick (and tired) of what I became, but he never showed his frustration, not once. He made me sit, in the car, the passenger seat, at McCarran Airport and hear about this really wonderful person he knew. She was intelligent, one of the smartest people he knew, kind, pretty, and dammit, one hell of a woman. He said she would find what she was looking for, but she had to start being person she was supposed to be. I could tell he wanted to be frustrated; I think becoming a father helped teach him how not to be. Tab played professional football, and he had not competed the way I did. I did something athletic that he would probably never do, and that was amazing to him. That made him proud, and he couldn’t understand how I could make it so small, so tiny, so forgettable.

Memory. I always remember his birthday. It’s today. He’s a year older, wiser, braver, and funnier. I’m a year luckier.

There are so many wishes that I have for my best friend on his birthday. But I dare not speak them. I do, however, pray that I am everything I need to be for him when he walks into them all. He's going to have everything I ever did hope for him...and then some.

Happy Birthday.

Why Do I Even Wear Heels? #2015Kin2015

Yea, I ask myself that too. Then I look at my shoes and think, yes…that’s why. Thanks for the reminder.

I know what you all were thinking. She’s gonna run 15 races in 2015. Or, she’s going to be crazy and run 2015 miles. And at one point in 2014, you would have been absolutely correct. There was also the 5 “signature running events” thing in 2015 jogging around my mind at one point too.

I know me, so I know that putting a specific number of races to it will be easy. No matter the number. As long as I sign up, show up, start, and finish, I’ve reached the goal. I have shown that I can do that, and exceed the expectation. I’m going to take step back from that and focus on the miles. Not 2015 of them, because well, um, that would be, a lot of money spent not on heels #runningshoes. But a pretty substantial amount.

2015K of them. Okay, time for that math you haven’t been using. 1K is equal to 0.6214 miles. For those of you who aren’t math majors, just work with the 0.62, mmkay? I am going to do 2015 of those almost miles! 1252.121 miles, or in my case 1253 miles to be exact. I know what you’re thinking, I was supposed to round down. I’m an overachiever, so we all knew that I was going to round up. You are not surprised by this.

Unlike last year, I don’t have a full race calendar ready to go. I know, crazy, right? It’s not about the number of events, and totally not about the medals. It’s about giving meaning to every single I lace up those running shoes and get out there. Each mile I run means something because that’s all that matter. I have to run 1253 miles in 2015. Which is also the other hashtag #1253in2015. It’s not as cute as #2015Kin2015, but it still works.

I’ve got the mileage, now what’s the other part? #14in2014 was about 2 things, 14 races and 14 medals. I have the 2015K (1253miles), what’s the other part?

That’s where the 15 comes in. My 15 is as follows:

5: Run in 5 new states. #QuestForAll50

4: Run 4 (training runs or races) with 4 different people. #MakeNewFriends

3: Run 3 events not part of my 2014. #RunNewRaces #GetNewMedals

2: Run back to back events. #WithACatchTho #Like2DifferentStates

1: PR my Half Marathon time…just once. #PRorBacon #PR&Bacon #YeaThatsBetter

There you have it. My miles and my tasks along the way. It will not be easy. If I thought #14in2014 was difficult (which I did at one point), then this is inconceivable.

I’m gonna do it anyway. I hope you join me. Especially if you’ve never joined me before. Uh, that’s on the list. And, if you live in a new state, that’ll help me check off the other two. Live near a state line? Even better.

You've got a job in 2015 too. Aside from running with me, you have to hold me accountable to this!