There is No I in Team

I finished my first marathon on 10/22/2011. I say finished because I set out to complete it. I did not race it. Finish vs. race? What do these two words mean to me in the context of a running event? Finish is to hold back, to leave something on the course, instead of risk not completing it. Race is to go all out, leave nothing on the course, and risk walking away without a finisher’s medal.

Until the morning of 11/13/2011, I was still undecided on whether or not I was going to do my 2nd marathon or my 3rd San Antonio Half. I am deliberately using the word do, instead of finish or race.

My indecision to do the full or the half caused some stress for Alan. I had already finished my 1st marathon 3 weeks earlier and he supported me in my effort. Understandably, he wanted me to support him for his 1st marathon. Honestly, until race day, I had some selfish desire to do my 2nd marathon and I had internal conflict with doing my 2nd marathon or supporting Alan on his 1st marathon.

I woke up on November 13, 2011 and knew in my heart that it was Alan’s day. I said to him as we were getting ready, “I’m going to do the half.” I did not pack any Shot Bloks or Nuun on me because I knew if I had them with me, I might change my mind midway through the run if I was having a good day.

Alan and I kissed our goodbyes and I wished him luck. I was puttering around, not really sure if I even wanted to run. Did I really want to do another half on this day? Free biscuits and gravy in the hotel sounded better.

Somehow, Alan lingered in our hotel room a few extra minutes and I snapped to it and said I‘d walk down to the start with him. I knew if I did not join him, I would end up eating breakfast and being a spectator for the day.

I am an ENFP. I am not a linear thinker. I work intuitively. This is important to the story and why I had made so many last minute decisions. It drives Alan crazy; he is an ESFP. This one letter difference between an N and S can make for some funny and maddening moments in our journey together.

I followed his lead. It was his race. I held his arm as we meandered around other runners to where he thought he should be in the corral line up. We lined up less than 5 minutes before the race start. No butterflies, nothing. After all, I was just planning on having a leisurely run.

Until, I stepped it up and said, “I’ll pace you.” Now, I thought it was a little silly. I thought he might not go for it. But I know I can bring it when I need to bring it. And I started getting the brilliant idea in my head that I was going to race the half.

Alan loved the idea of me pacing him. He thought it would slow him down and he needed that early on. Typically, when Alan and I run together, we do not run together. After a short warm up, he always ends up ahead and I just do my own la-di-da thing.

Alan and I ran together the first 11 miles of his 1st marathon and my 3rd San Antonio Half. He motivated me to go faster. I kept him from going too fast. He remarked at the end, after he finished his 1st marathon, “I am so proud of you. You kept up my pace after the 11 miles.” And that I did. He ran his half in 2:08:32. I ran my half in 2:08:40. I raced it. Not a Personal Record (PR), but for a season of no speed work, I impressed myself.

Now, I know I have it in me to race at least one marathon. Why do I know this? I do not want to run another 6 hour marathon. I am Ok if, in my attempt to go faster, I do not complete my 2nd marathon, but I will race it.

After my half, I chatted with several other Rogue half-marathoners and spectators and started a new mission: to cheer on all the Rogues who I saw completing the marathon and find Alan, my personal Rogue. I removed the timing chip from my running shoe, stored my half-marathon medal in my Spibelt, and did not remove the race bib that was pinned to my shorts. Then I started walking the course I just ran in reverse. The last 1.5 to 2 miles of the marathon and half marathon course overlap.

I shouted out as best as I could when I saw fellow Rogue athletes Trey, James, Melinda and Stacey completing their marathons. They all looked strong.

I got to mile 24.5ish where Coach Bobby and his wife Margaret were cheering on every marathoner, and asked Bobby if Alan had passed him already. He said, “No, he should be in the next group.”

And there he was. Looking strong, I thought. I waved my arms and shouted to him, “Alan, Alan…You’re looking strong.” I snapped his photo and asked, “Do you want me to run you in?” He said, “Yes, that would be helpful.”

I remembered it was his race and I did as he did. I offered him words of encouragement. In that last .2 as he approached the final hill, he started sprinting and left me behind, as he always does. I was so proud of him. It had become one our typical runs together. He did not look back and I did not expect him to do that. It was his moment as I faded into the background.