The ugly cry finish.
Publix Atlanta Marathon.
Feet were covered in blisters and bleeding. Picked the wrong shoes.
For the first time ever, I finished behind the sweeper.
BUT, I did not give up.
I wanted to. Badly. My feet stung with every step after mile 11.
It was humiliating watching the sweeper lady get ahead of me by 2-3 minutes.
I ran 20 miles without my usual posse.
There was so much conversation in my head. I could have beat myself up a lot more than I did.
Instead I used the time to pray. To talk to my Spirit Guides, to talk to God.
I prayed for the ability to finish. I thanked them for having the means and body to even TRY to do something as crazy as this.
I asked myself why it meant so much to me to attempt it and then to complete it.
This race wasn’t about the medal.
This race was all about me.
My life.
Who hasn’t been in pain during their life?
What choice do we have but to humble ourselves and pray, despite the pain?
I can’t say that this race was the most challenging thing of my life, not by far, but I definitely see a correlation here.
I had to dig very deep to make it. I had to admit that I’ll never be the best runner.
But I’m good. Just not at running.
I am a good mother.
I am a good forgiver.
I am honest.
I am willing to see the best in people and help them bring that to the surface.
I am a helper, a server. I see the human condition.
And today, with bleeding, stinging feet, I crossed the finish line.
Life is a marathon, and despite the struggle, I am humbled and grateful to be alive and to be HERE.
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