Celebrate we will.

"Celebrate we will
Because life is short but sweet for certain
We're climbing two by two
To be sure these days continue
These things we cannot change."

~ Dave Matthews Band's "Two Step"

I live life with more gusto now. More intention, more vigor. Matter of fact, I'm climbing two by two.

That is, I want to take it all in. Not two by two like I want to rush it along or anything. But just in big sweeping steps to get more of it.

Hmmm. Does this even make sense? Probably not. Oh well. Feeling rambly.

(That's a warning.)

Today I ran 13.1 miles with an old and dear friend. But before that we spent the weekend laughing out loud and talking about everything and nothing. We ate healthy-healthy and terrible-ish, too. We walked down the streets of Chicago going somewhere and nowhere. And the whole time, I savored it all. Every sight, every sound.

This would be my third half marathon. My third--whoa. I met up with my college sorority linesister/pledge sister Glencia who lives in Chicago. Being around her felt easy and natural which was good. Very good. But, still, I didn't take it for granted. I squinted my eyes and took it all in.

Isn't it good to have easy friendships? Non-heavy and non-pressured? That's what I think. 
 

We hit the expo which is where and when you get your race number and packet. Glencia inspected the route to let us know what we were in for. All I knew was that we were in for 13.1 miles of running. It was hard to ignore that fact, even if part of it was along a lake front. Ha.

One of Harry's best friends, Derrick, was kind enough to chauffeur us to and from the expo, too. He's the only person I know that's even more easygoing than Glencia. So hanging out with both of them at the same time was awesome. Plus I loved telling Harry that Derrick was looking out for us.

That reminds me--I love that my husband has very good and very old friends. That says something about him if you ask me. They all seem to have this code where they look out for each other and take care of each others' "people."  Derrick took care of us.

Plus he's not hard on the eyes and is ,as Harry says, "a smooth brother."  Even if he's like a real brother to me, I can say that, right?

So yes. The expo was cool and Derrick was great. He dropped us off and we had some lunch at a swanky spot in the thick of it all. So Chicago, man. The city had a pulse and it was thumping. I loved it.

Then we took the L. Just because I wouldn't feel like I was in Chicago unless we did. So we did.

We got up early this morning. Started it off with simultaneous yawning and laughter just like we did when we were Delta pledges hiding from our big sisters. Ha. And that part was wonderful.

I had even laid all my stuff out the night before like a good runner. Yup. This is either "good runner" practice or "corny runner" practice. But whichever, that's what I did.

Once we got there, I let myself notice things. And notice people. I can't say that's so unusual for me, but I feel like I do it more now. I take it all in two by two, you know? No, you don't? Oh well. Anyways. I made friends in the crowd and asked people where they were from. I heard their stories and smiled with them. And since I love people, that part was good, too.

Three best friends from Minnesota, New Jersey, and Illinois met up for the race.

This woman, Peg (in purple) ran with her husband and their two daughters. Peg beat them all.

A little pre-race shenanigans never hurts

The race was tough. Surprisingly so considering how flat the Chicago course was. I'd heard that having no hills hurts more since you don't have to switch up muscle groups. And man was I sore. Well. It could have been that or just the fact that my training wasn't fully up to snuff. My guess is that it was a little of both.

And. My GPS devices were all going cattywompus. ("Cattywompus" is such a JoLai word. Ha.) I had no idea what my pace was or what mile I was on. Like two seconds into the race, my Map My Run app said, "DISTANCE: 1 MILE. PACE 5 MINUTES PER MILE."  For two seconds I was excited. I thought I'd turned into that dude Meb who won the Boston Marathon.

Or not. Ha.

I still had fun, though. And despite being GPS-sabotaged, I finished in quite a respectable time, if I do say so myself. Not far at all from my personal record--or "P.R." as us runner-people call it. Nope.

*brushes off shoulders*

So yeah. That was fun. In fact, all of it was fun, actually. Wait, can you say that? "In fact" and then "actually?" Oh well. You get the picture.

Glencia's coworker braved the crowds and met us down at the finish. He had cupcakes, too. But even sweeter was his big smile and the fact that he'd gotten up so early to be there.

Very cool.


Oh! And they even gave out beer afterwards. Beer! You know, to replenish the ol' carbohydrates.

Ah hem.

So I was super happy and ultra giddy. Not even because of the Michelob Ultra beer, either. Then I got hit with that wave of melancholy that always hits me after a long race. I originally started running in memory of my sister Deanna and as a way to tell heart disease to kick rocks. I run and I think, "Take that, you thief!" and sometimes I even say out loud, "BOOM! In yo' face, heart disease!" I actually do. Yup. And so. I always dedicate the third and last miles to her. Usually, I run and weep for the final mile and it's fine. People are usually so dog tired that they don't even see me. Or they just think I'm super sweaty or just emotional. But for whatever reason, this time I didn't cry on mile 12 like usual.

Nope.

It happened after I was sitting in a Thai restaurant with Glencia a few hours later. I had just sent a text to Will and JoLai telling the that I'd finished the race. And then I ended it with this:

"Turns out not where but who you're with that really matters." ~ DMB #runfordeanna

Now. That quote comes from the lyrics to an old Dave Matthews Band song and writing that to them immediately put the song in my head. It also made me hear the next stanza after that line in the song:

"And hurts not much when your around."

Which made me cry. And is making me cry again. And will make me cry anytime I think of it.

Uggh.

Glen was awesome. She let me cry and she understood. She knew Deanna personally and was keenly aware of the hole that was left behind when she departed. And as much as a buzz kill as it was to have me with leaky eyes after her first (awesome) half marathon, she was patient. It was a sunshower, fortunately. And before we knew it, we were back to laughing.

Will and JoLai love the Dave Matthews Band. Deanna and I have always just sort of gone along for the ride with them. Later on, I started listening to Dave Matthews Band a little more and though I didn't fall in love like my eldest and youngest sibs, I did start to hear the lyrics differently. They spoke to my spirit a lot more and I let them. That felt good since I know how much Jo and Will love that band.

Anyways.

I did listen to lots of Dave Matthews on my playlist today. And, specifically, I played "The Best of What's Around" and "Two Step" just to connect me to my siblings. The running part feels spiritual and like I'm connecting with Deanna and the Dave Matthews music part feels like a hug from JoLai and Will at the same time. And all of it together felt good which made me feel strong.

You know what else?

I was with a good friend. A sorority sister, no less. Which made it even better.

Here's what I'm thinking right now: My life is good. It is rich and wonderful and full of love. I have legs that can run strong for 13.1 miles and a heart that can sustain my body when I do. And family and friends that I wouldn't trade for the world.

And so. Celebrate I will. Because life is short but sweet for certain. I'm climbing two by two to be sure these days continue.

And if that doesn't work? I'll make the best of what's around.

***

"See, you and me
Have a better time than most can dream
Have it better than the best
And so can pull on through
Whatever tears at us
Whatever holds us down
And if nothing can be done
We'll make the best of what's around

Turns out not where but who you're with
That really matters
And hurts not much when you're around."

~ Dave Matthews Band's "The Best of What's Around."

***

Happy Sunday.

Now playing on my mental iPod. . . ."Two step". . . 



and my favorite DMB song that always makes me cry. . . "The Best of What's Around."



(I blogged about this song before. Here and here, in case you're interested.)

Post Thanksgiving Thanks-giving: This I do in remembrance of you.

Dear Sissy,

Yesterday was Thanksgiving day. Admittedly, as far as missing you goes, it wasn't any worse than other days. And I guess it feels weird to say that the missing you part of my life has shifted from that acutely throbbing way to this dull steady sensation. I've learned to not only live with it but also try my best to channel it for something good. Like you would, you know?

Anyways. I told you after the Army 10 miler that I'd finally tackled what seemed like a far-fetched goal and how seeing your face and hearing your voice pushed me to even try in the first place. This morning I was reflecting on this past year and this whole running adventure that I've been on. I realized that one of the best things about all of it is how it makes me feel connected to you. And that has propelled me, you know? It has.

When that heart attack took you away from us, I felt so cheated. Wait. A lot of days I still do. So I made up my mind to find some way to start fighting and raging against heart disease. And, of course, genetics is genetics but still. I wasn't always as great as JoLai or Daddy about getting that 150 minutes or more per week of cardiovascular exercise. So first, I committed myself to that part. But somehow this idea of running and you looking up from your crocheting to tell me at the kitchen table that day that I could be a runner stayed in my head. It did.

So initially I'd set this goal back in January of 2013 to run a half marathon in your honor. And it was important to me that it be done in 2013 because that was the year of our beloved sorority's centennial and I knew how much this year meant to you. So 2013 it would be. But then came a stress fracture and some set backs so my original plan of running the Chicago Women's Half for the American Heart Association faded into the shadows.

Of course, other goals were realized, so I didn't fret long. I shifted my focus to the Army 10 miler since you had personally encouraged me to do that one. And that race felt like we were holding hands. It really did. That might have been the very best part. And is the very best part of when I run.

This I do in remembrance of you. And sure, perhaps that's mostly spoken in reference to taking communion in churches but for me and running nothing could feel more holy than feeling my beating heart intertwining with yours. I look at my feet and feel my arms pumping and imagine that we are of the same DNA which means we are always, always together. So it always feels good and is, in part, as religious an experience as any for me. 

Sigh. Yeah. So on Thanksgiving morning I can say I was as thankful for you as I always am which is a lot. And with that I am super-thankful for JoLai and Will more than ever because they, too, know what I feel when it comes to us and our blended souls. You'd be happy to know that mom and dad have been mostly great and they found smiles and laughter yesterday and have been finding them more and more. But the other thing that happened yesterday was this:

I ran a half marathon. In 2013. Yes. In 2013, Deanna!

And let me tell you about it, okay? It was cold. Like, super cold that morning. 24 degrees to be exact and blistering-blistering on my cheeks and hands. But I double-gloved with mittens on top and a pair of dainty satin Delta gloves on bottom. And I know the dainty Delta gloves is kind of funny but I needed to have something from you on my person.

Ha ha. Goofy, I know.

Anyways. I got stuck in a crap-ton of traffic on my way there and OMG I mean a CRAP-TON. It turns out that a lot of Atlantans were half-crazy that morning and wanted to start their turkey day off with a half marathon or a 5K, too.

I was in Corral D so was supposed to start at 7:45 a.m.  Well. By the time I parked and used the potty, it was nearly 8:00 a.m.  I was TOTALLY freaking out. TOTALLY. Fortunately, the Profesora in Pittsburgh talked me directly off of the ledge and kept telling me that it would work out no matter what. That this was going to happen and that it would be good because it was connected to you.

She was right.

I literally sprinted from the car to the potty and from the potty to the start and straight into the race. I was already behind and a little freaked out. That made me run overly fast (for me) for the first two miles. Fortunately that caught me up to several of my friends like Frieda and Coach B and Ishan and Tamika and Jennifer. So I'd say that was a good thing.

I did my mile dedications. Most of them were for you but I did dedicate miles to JoLai, Will, Mommy and Daddy, Grandma, the boys, my Ruths and CJ. This past week was the fifth year since CJ made his heavenly transition. I thought of him and of Davina and Ced a lot this week. I remembered how affected you were by their loss back in 2008. I liked knowing I had some angels on my side, too.

The race was tough and a bit hilly but mostly, it was great. I felt strong and able. It kept making me think of that t-shirt JoLai gave me that said "Today I can do anything." She gave me that right around the time that I first started running. So I kept hearing that in my head yesterday while I was running which connected me to JoLai, too.

Yeah. So I kept a decent pace and felt good. And you know? When I got to mile 8 I started feeling a slump coming on. My legs felt tired and I was starting to run out of gas. And you know what I did? I said, "Hey CJ! I need you to loan me your wings for about a mile or so." Sure, I said it under my breath but still, I said it. And you know what? That gave me a second wind. At least for miles 8 and 9, it did.

When I got to mile 10, my legs were very tired. My wind was fine but my legs! Uggh. So there I was trucking under the interstate 85 bridge and chanting to myself "Today I can do anything" over and over again. That or "Come on, Mommy. Come on, Mommy." I wish I could say that it was working. But then the most interesting thing happened. A homeless man who clearly lived under that bridge was standing on the side of the road cheering people on. And he yelled out loud, "JUST THREE MORE MILES!"

And I'm not sure what it was about that, Dee. Like, was it seeing him with that blanket over his shoulders and imagining him having to sleep in that searing cold? Was it the thought of him walking miles and miles just to find a dry and safe-ish place? Was it me thinking of how many miles he'd need to walk to get to a shelter only to find out that it is already full? Maybe. But also it was that number he yelled out.

"JUST THREE MORE MILES!"

Three. Three. Your number. And also a doable task. "I can run three miles," I said. I said that out loud. In fact, I said it very loud. "I can TOTALLY run three miles!" But my legs were protesting. They were saying, "No. No, we can't. We've never run more than ten miles, remember? You are tripping." But then? Then I heard that Drill Sergeant woman from the Army 10 miler with her big, booming voice yelling in my ear.

"RUN STRONG, DEANNA'S SISTER! RUN STRONG FOR DEANNA! COME ON! YOU GOT THIS, BABY! YOU GOT THIS, DEANNA'S SISTER!"

And that? That did it. That right there. And, of course, just the thought of that woman yelling out your name and it making me feel immediately stronger made me cry. No, not immediately. I was okay until I reached the mile 12 marker. But something about seeing that told me that I was going to make it. That it was 2013 and I was going to complete a half marathon. Me.

I'm so glad I saved her voice on my mental iPod that day. I knew I'd need it again. And probably again.

Damn. I couldn't stop crying. Like, literally, I cried for a solid half of that mile and I didn't even care who saw me. Fortunately, I wasn't running with another person and most folks were so dog tired and cold that they could focus on nothing but themselves by that point instead of some randomly hysterical crying black woman next to them.

Ha.

And you know what? I crossed that finish line and felt elated. Because honestly, I felt like I had just presented you with a very precious gift that I'd been working on for an entire year. And that you'd just opened it before me and said, "I love it! I love it!" And that? That was super awesome. Super, duper awesome.

"Today I can do anything."

And even better is the fact that it was a gift to me and all of the rest of our family, too. Which is so amazing, isn't it? I even made it in under my goal time of 2 hours and 30 minutes. My official time ended up being 2:27:51 which, I'm now certain, I can beat in the future. And I will.

One of the first people I saw when I finished was my Tuskegee chapter soror, Ishan. And she's run lots of races but understood what all of this has meant to me. So she hugged my neck and congratulated me in the most sincere and sisterly way. I'm really thankful that she was the first one I saw because she got where I was. She did. She knew of this journey and the look in her eyes told me so.

with Ishan M.

Then I saw my sweet Free-Free but somehow in our excitement neglected to take an iPhone picture. (It was a lot colder than it was at the Peachtree Road Race below.) But that's okay because Frieda and I have more races on our horizon so there will be more to see in the future.

But then, this:

The BHE (who refused to be photographed) braved the cold to wait at the finish line. And I cannot even begin to describe how amazing it feels to see your children hooping and hollering right after you just finished running the furthest you've ever run in your life. Especially for this reason.

 

Zachary was probably the most excited. He wanted me to run some more so that he could run with me. And, of course, he promptly put on my medal and the warmer as soon as he could get it off of me. 

 

That part was awesome. Really, really awesome. 

Oh! And you'd love that my other Tuskegee chapter soror Tamika and I had shirts made that said, "TUSKEGEE GIRLS RULE." Which, I'm sure you'd agree, is totally true. We also have hops.

Tamika and I have decided to make a tradition of the post race jumping photos. 

Ha ha. Tamika's an awesome sport. I'm hoping to have a giant collection of dorky jumping pictures after a while. Still haven't succeeded at getting your buddy Crystal in on the jumping. What can I say? It's a process. Ha ha.

Later that evening, we had a wonderful dinner that included Grandma Shugsie and lots of very good friends, too. The food was amazing and the fellowship even more so. I am sure that you would have been right in the thick of it and probably at the table trashtalking and playing cards, too. 

Yeah. So Thanksgiving was perfect. It was filled with thoughts of you. But also filled with moments that reminded me of how blessed this life is. I take not a moment of it for granted. Not a moment.

And every chance I get to live my life with more intention. . . .now I know that just like running. . . this I do in remembrance of you.

Today? I can do anything. It's 2013. I just ran a half marathon. And life is very, very good.

Yeah.

Love and miss you to the moon,

Sissy

P.S. Thought you'd like this: I routed my long training runs on the weekends so that I'd run past Will's clinic. That always gave me a little charge at the midpoint of my run.  (It also gave me a place to use the bathroom and have some water. LOL.)

***
Happy Belated Thanksgiving everybody. I hope you know that today you can do anything, too.

Now playing on my mental iPod. . . my running power song!

The Army Ten-Miler: A run for your life.

Feel it comin' in the air
And the screams from everywhere
I'm addicted to the thrill
It's a dangerous love affair

Can't be scared when it goes down
Got a problem, tell me now
Only thing that's on my mind
Is who's gonna run this town tonight?

~ from Jay Z feat. Rihanna "Run This Town"

____________________________________________

A letter to Deanna:


Dear Sissy,

Remember that day that we were sitting at my kitchen table and I told you that I wanted to be a runner? And then I started laughing and you said, "Why are you laughing? You can totally be a runner, Kimberly!"

Do you remember that?

Well, I do.

I do because on that same day I told you that I hoped to one day run the Peachtree Roadrace and also how it was sort of on my pie-in-the-sky bucket list to someday run The Army Ten-Miler. And I laughed hard at myself again for even daring to utter those words "ten-miler" because we both knew that while I have always exercised, running always seemed to elude me.

"Crystal H. runs a bunch. Let me reach out to her to see what she says." That's what you said to me and then, of course, like you always do, you made sure that we got in contact with one another. And by "we" I mean "she" (who is just as much of a follow-througher as you) texted and emailed me promptly with all sorts of permutations of running groups and gatherings.

Sure did.

I can't say that really did the trick but I am thankful to you for that. And Crystal, too, for trying back then. Yeah. So even though I publicly professed my desire to be a runner girl, I guess I never had anything to nudge me hard enough to get over the hump of . . . well. . . running. 

Mmm hmmm.

Well. When you left? Man. It was literally the darkest time of my life. But what's crazy is--because you were always so full of light--even at the times where things felt pitch black, I could always see your light shining in the midst. And the crazy thing is that instead of shining out of you in the living, it started shining out of all kinds of other people. Including me.

Yep.

So guess what, Sissy? You'd be so, so proud of what I'm going to tell you. That's what did it. Remembering you saying to me that I could and wanting to focus my energy and pain into something meaningful. So yes. I actually started running. Like, for real, Sissy. Can you even believe it? I know, I know. You're going to say, "I knew you could do it, Pookie!" But see I didn't. I really didn't know for sure that I could. But knowing that you always believed I could do anything I put my mind to doing motivated me. It did.

So I ran the Peachtree Road Race. Sure did! On the 4th of July with Frieda. Yes, I know it's hard to get in that race. And no, I didn't have my act together enough to get a number, but our favorite brother Will let me have his. Woot! So, yep, I ran that race with a big ol' sign that said "WILLIAM" across my waist. Which was actually sort of cool, right?

And guess what else? Crystal and I ran a race on your birthday weekend. Lisa was there and so was Sonya from our chapter. And Sonya and Crystal were all Delta-tastic in their Delta gear which you totally would have loved. Totally. That AKA girl Lisa, of course, came in head-to-toe pink--including a little skirt.  

Mmm hmmm.

We still love her though. Pink get up and all. Hee hee!

But what I really want to tell you about is what I did yesterday morning. . . . .

Yes, Sissy. I made a plan to do the 2013 Army Ten-Miler. Just like you told me I could.

Man. I can't even tell you how amazed I am that I actually went through with it.

So how was it? Well. In a word: Awesome. 

Guess who met me in D.C. to run the race, too?

C.J.'s mommy Davina!  Please tell him that his mommy was getting after it. She sure was.

We both stayed with Shannon and Michelle on the eve of the race--and you know since Shannon has run the ATM a zillion times, he had to start coaching us on all the things we needed to do for race day. He whipped up some kind of electrolyte concoction that Davina and I affectionately referred to as "go-go juice" that we sipped like cocktails all evening long. He made us have another bottle of it that morning, too.

Coach Shannon dropped us off at the corrals and since we had our go-go juice on board, we were ready to rock and roll.

It was kind of cold that morning, but since both of us had our favorite angels on our minds, our warm hearts kept us going. And guess what? Even though Davina came all AKA pink-and-greened up, you'd be proud to know that I was all Delta-tastic since you were my inspiration for making this dream a reality.

People kept saying, "Go Delta girls!" to us and Davina would promptly throw up her little dainty AKA pinky and squeal that squeaky little sound that those girls in that pink-and-green sorority make.

*eye roll*

Hee hee. Juuuust kidding, Davina.

But seriously, though, Davina definitely repped for the AKA girls and, Dee, I want you to know I held it down for us Delta girls. I sure did. Davina is actually Lt. Colonel Davina and her hubby Ced is Lt. Colonel Ced -- so you know they are automatically bad ass runners in that ol' military house of theirs. Yeah, so I couldn't even really hit her with any jokes about being too prissy to run because she's NO JOKE.

(Although now that I'm looking at these photos I'm noticing that she ran with pearl earrings on. Really Lt. Colonel Davina? Hee hee.)

And I think you may remember, but I'm not sure--you know that Davina and our Lisa pledged AKA together at Hampton in 1990? Isn't it crazy how God orchestrates peoples' lives? Who'd have ever thought that my best friend's linesister would marry one of my husband's best friends. . . .and then become like a sister to me in so many ways?

I love those girls. Wrong sorority choice and all. Maybe I can make an exception for the ones who pledged the Gamma Theta chapter at Hampton. Uuuuh. . .okay.

Tee hee hee.

Well the race. It was so great. I felt challenged but definitely good. Just as you suggested, Crystal came through and TOTALLY helped me get ready. She has been my major guru with all sorts of tips and encouragement and such. The go-go juice plus the preparation was a mighty combo. And my Delta-tastic shirt was a super hit. (Purchased after a tip from Crystal, too--go figure.) Dee, people on the streets and behind me kept shouting out:

"GO DEANNA'S SISTER! GO DEANNA'S SISTER!"

The Delta girls I saw on the streets saw that shirt and started oo-ooping SUPER loud Delta calls my way and pumping their fists in the air cheering. Which really hyped me up. Mostly because I knew it would have really hyped YOU up.

And man, on like mile seven this one woman pointed in my face while running next to me and said in this SUPER BOOMING drill sergeant voice:

"RUN STRONG, DEANNA'S SISTER! RUN STRONG FOR DEANNA! COME ON! YOU GOT THIS, BABY! YOU GOT THIS, DEANNA'S SISTER!"

 And when she said that, I immediately started crying but I kept on running and she just gave me two big thumbs up that somehow felt exactly like a big hug. And man, I didn't know that lady from anybody but damn, did I appreciate that. Damn, I did.

I saved her voice to my mental iPod to play back to myself later. I did.

And then this other woman ran up behind me and said, "You went to Tuskegee! You're Deanna's Sister! You're Deanna Draper's sister!!!" And you know what? She didn't even know you personally, but she knew OF you and your legacy from some mutual friends. And she hugged my neck real quick and said she was a proud Tuskegee alum just like us. And that part was cool, too.

Super cool.

I even ran into her at the finish line and we took this picture as proof that Tuskegee was in the house! Running strong. And yet another opportunity for photographic proof of me being Delta-tastic in my shirt.

Ha.

Guess what? I finished with a personal record. Or a "P.R." as all the runny babbits call it. Ha. Look at me using all the lingo of the runny babbit people. Ha ha ha. That's 'cause I'm a runner now.

Mmmm hmmm.

So the P.R., you ask? My shmancy Garmin watch (bought second hand from one of our sorority sisters that Crystal hooked me up with) said I did 10.27 miles in 1:43 minutes. But my official time on the Army Ten-Miler website reported me at like 1:48 minutes. Either way, it's roughly a 10 and 1/2 minute mile average which, for me, is AW-SHUMMMMMM!

So yeah, they gave us these really cool medal-coin-thingies. And just now while writing this to you, I realized that it's in the shape of the Pentagon. Which is kind of rad, right?

So really the Army Ten-Miler weekend was all around rad. It was. Being with Davina. Talking about you and C.J. Reminiscing. Me and Davina crashing a party the night before with Shannon and Michelle. Laughing out loud. Drinking Shannon's go-go juice concoction instead of adult beverages. Seeing Colin and Paige (Shannon and Michelle's kids.) Meeting Davina's sister Toya. Catching up. Cracking Delta/AKA jokes nonstop. Man. All of it. All of it was so, so awesome.

And.

 

The BHE as an Army officer

It might sound corny, but let me just say that running along side America's heroes was surreal. It was. And yes, I meant to say "America's heroes" because it was made very, very clear to me yesterday that this is exactly who our military families are. I read peoples' shirts and saw up close and personal the countless human sacrifices that families just like ours make to protect us. And the strength, sis. It was unreal. And eye-opening for sure. One man had a shirt on with his son's picture. Underneath it said something like:

"Because you can't be here. I run for your life."

And then it had the day he lost his life in combat. Because people -- real effing people -- a whole, whole lot of them, actually, have either lost their lives or gotten seriously injured during these wars. And just like I'm loving you and missing you, there are people feeling the same way about their loved ones or the pre-injury lives they used to have, you know?

Damn.

There were scores of "wounded warriors" out there running strong. Heads up and shoulders back feeding me their DUST, do you hear me?  Wow, Sis. It inspired me in ways I can hardly explain.

Yeah.

On the way out of the race, Davina and I were walking the two mile convoluted trek back to where Michelle was planning to pick us up. So we're just walking and talking and all of a sudden Davina looks like she just saw a ghost. She gasped. "Oh. My. Goodness." She froze in her tracks. She saw an old friend--a soldier from her husband Cedric's batallion during his last deployment to Afghanistan. A youngish brother who could be any of our friends, husbands or brothers. He was being pushed in a wheelchair by a soldier friend as his wife walked beside him holding his prosthetic running blades.

Yep.

All of the color washed out of Davina's face. This was someone who'd fought right beside Ced. Dang. And seeing him now amputated affected her deeply, I could tell. And the resolve in his face. . .it was just. . . man. All I could say about that moment was this:

Damn. Shit just got real.

Man, it did. Davina wasn't the only one affected. I was, too. I couldn't help but think that this man literally lost his legs protecting me and my family. I swear I wanted to run and hug him and every single man or woman who has ever put themselves in harm's way for people they don't even know.

I refrained from saying something awkward like, "Thank you for . . .uhh. . your service." Instead I just shook his hand hard and told him how nice it was to meet him. Because it was nice and I meant that. I shook his lovely wife's hand, too, and told her the same. And when she switched one of those prostheses out of her arm to the other just to reach for my hand, shit got real all over again. I did my best to act regular about that chance encounter but it was hard because honestly I didn't feel regular. I felt conflicted. . . and. . . I don't know. . .just indebted, man.

For real.

You know what, Deanna? Now I know. This race was about way more than me and my personal goal or my pie-in-the-sky bucket list. Way more. It was a celebration of human life. And human sacrifice. And love. And safety. And security. Which is really apropos since I associate all of those things with you, too.

Harry Skyping with Shannon during his YEAR AWAY FROM HIS FAMILY in Baghdad.

Yeah.

On a lighter note--how cute is this? When I got home, Isaiah and Zachary ran and gave me HUGE hugs. Isaiah said, "Mommy, I'm soooo proud of you!" Then he asked to see my medal. And Zachary saw it and immediately asked me if I won. And you know what I told him?

"Yes. Mommy DID win." Because I did.

And that made him and Isaiah just hug me even tighter. Which felt even better than getting that medal.

So yes, Sissy. I did it. I ran strong with you on my mind the whole time -- and I plan to keep on doing just that. And I promise to always dedicate mile three--and the final mile--to you. You bet I will.

Thanks for flying beside me yesterday and always. Guess now I need to revise my Vision Board and dream bigger, right?

Alright, Sis. I promise to write you again after the next race milestone--whatever it may be. (Counting on you to join me for that one, too.)

I love and miss you terribly every single day. We all do.

Hug Grandma and C.J. for us, okay? And hug yourself while you're at it.

In Delta and sisterly love always,

Sissy

P.S. I'm now plotting to get JoLai to run with me in 2014. I've already scouted out the cool races in cool places we'll go to . . . . can you say wine country? Hee hee.

***
Now playing on my mental iPod. . .this video clip of Amber Riley from GLEE covering The Pretender's "I'll Stand By You" -- the song that unexpectedly broke me down in Kroger that day. JoLai saw this and immediately sent it my way since this song makes me think of you. This version broke me ALL THE WAY down all over again. . .but mostly it made me think of you in the most loving, perfect way. And seeing this beautiful, full-figured brown girl singing it with all of her heart to me touches me all the more. Thanks for sending this to me, JoLai.



And this was playing on my mental iPod during the race. . . . . . we RAN that town, baby!