The weekend of the race was extremely emotional. I didn’t know whether to feel frightened at the huge physical challenge that lay in front of me, proud to be facing it or sad to be finishing it.
I suppose I felt it all.
My dad traveled with me to cheer me on. He came with posters designed to motivate me along the race. Unable to make the trip to San Francisco, my mother and sister arranged a phone tree of friends and family members to call me throughout the race. My cousin,Wendy, who lives in San Francisco, gave me a care package with a beautiful necklace that said, “I believe.”
The race began at 5:30 a.m.
We walked through Fisherman’s Wharf, along Crissy Field and next to the Golden Gate Bridge, through some beautiful San Francisco neighborhoods, down to the beach, through Golden Gate Park, along the Great Highway, around Lake Merced and back up the Great Highway to the Finish Line.
26.2 miles.
The race theme was “Run like a girl.” There were fabulous signs along the race path:
• Celebrate like a girl.
• Overcome like a girl.
• Endure like a girl.
• Kiss like a girl.
• Give like a girl.
• I’ll prove them wrong.
• Skinny jeans ahead.
• This is your road because you gave up sleeping late on weekends.
• Remember the god of victory was actually a goddess.
Manuel told me and Dolores around mile 18 that mental fortitude was the key. He told us to push away all negative thoughts and replace them with the positive. That was harder than you can imagine.
At mile 21 or so, I reached my “bite me” phase. Dolores laughed at me when I asked a few of the women on the course to stop talking about bacon. I think deep down she cheered for me when I yelled “Shut up!” to a car passing by who told me we were almost finished when we still had at least four or five miles left to go.
The last three or four miles on the Great Highway were torture. My legs hurt, my feet ached and my back was killing me. I was out of energy.
It took four people to walk me to the Finish Line.
My mother’s friend Kathy, a Dallas coach, joined me around mile 23. She asked me questions to keep my mind off the pain. She told me how proud my mother would be of me. Liesel joined me next. Walking with Liesel, as I had all season, was a huge comfort. Dee had already finished the half. She joined me to keep my spirits up. One mile away from the Finish Line, Dad walked with me too.
I didn’t think I could finish.
My friends kept telling me I was so close. I told them the Finish Line was too far.
About 25 feet from the Finish Line, race officials keep those who are not actually participating in the race from continuing. I didn’t expect that. I remember looking back at Liesel as she jumped and cheered with arms flailing, “You’ve got this, girl! Go! This is your moment!”
Dad tried to follow me along the sidelines with his video camera. I remember seeing Meredith’s smiling face cheering me on.
And then I finished.
I cannot explain the tremendous sense of satisfaction I felt. This is the biggest, hardest personal goal I have ever achieved. I will never be the same.
But after all was said and done, it was something the night before the race that I believe best summed up my marathon experience. At the TNT inspiration dinner, one team of women wore T-shirts that said:
The woman who started is not the woman who finished.
I couldn’t agree more.
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To celebrate its 100th anniversary, the Fort Worth chapter of the American Advertising Federation hosted a swank party featuring Matthew Weiner, creator and executive producer of the hit television series Mad Men.
Mr. Weiner did not disappoint. His stream-of-conscious approach was funny, refreshing and real. Even his tangents were relevant – we just had to keep up with him. Mr. Weiner’s most surprising quality was his willingness to be vulnerable in front of a room full of strangers. He spoke about how personally he takes character development, and how he pulls some of his best material from his own life experiences. He measures success by how true-to-life the scenes feel; he takes the most pride in the way private moments are portrayed, and the fact that the characters actually listen, taking in the words their counterparts speak, before responding.
During my Saturday morning trainings, I found a true friend and walking partner in Dolores, a teammate who was also planning to walk the full marathon in San Francisco. Her daughter, Danielle, is a sophomore at TCU who is battling leukemia. Our team captain, Don, is a leukemia survivor who ran his first marathon while he was still going through chemotherapy. Not too long ago, he ran another marathon in Rome, where views of the Vatican helped keep him inspired. He often trains with his wife, a wonderful woman with a huge heart.
Over the holidays, people asked me – on what seemed to be an hourly basis – “What do you do?”
TNT is an organization that benefits the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Many of the people who participate in TNT activities are leukemia patients or survivors of leukemia or other blood cancers, their friends and family members. When I began my training, I didn’t know anybody with this type of disease. So while I wish I could say that I began my training in support of these very brave individuals, I can’t.
‘Twas the week before Christmas, and all through the place
I’d like to preface my post with the motivation behind writing this particular blog. You see, I completed a personal goal. A marathon, to be exact. And because this accomplishment was unlike any other I had achieved in my life, I wanted to document the experience and share it with all of you. So, in keeping with the theme, this post will be the first of five – a marathon of my marathon, if you will. That said, I hope you enjoy reading about my journey and all its ups and downs. But remember to pace yourself here – this is not a sprint, this is a marathon.
I don’t know how they found me. Here, between the silent waving pines and drifting snow, I’d retired to a life of peace and minimalism. No more guns. No more explosive- laden arrows. No more sweaty rampages through wave after wave of enemy foot soldiers. I’d found my sanctuary. My past only haunted my nightmares now.
Recently, 
Associate creative director by day, dedicated painter by night, 
