and so i face my biggest fear.
it’s not the marathon. not even a little bit.
because i’ve done 3.
nike, los angeles, marine corps
and i know it will be hard.
they’re supposed to be hard.
and i was gonna be done.
save for a man named peter. who said no…come back.
and now. after months of tired legs
and hanson training,
i look forward to my favorite course.
oranges and jewelry in beverly hills
and even though the hill at disney concert hall
is maybe the hardest hill i’ve ever faced,
it does not compare to that long stretch
and mile 18 or is it 19?
where last year i was running with a group
and trying to keep this girl’s braids in sight
she was wearing purple
and i saw dark.
and my stomach could take it no more
off into the bushes i went
and my legs were on the course and i couldn’t even move them
out of the way
and this lady says “oh look! she hit the wall”
and i didn’t even the energy to scowl.
the cop just stared at me
the salon pas group was across the way
spraying, spraying, spraying
them saying you must. get. in.
is my blood pressure okay? my heartbeat?
they say, yeah.
but you have to go with us. or get on the bus. and go back to the start.
and i say i can’t. my dad is there. i have to get up.
45 minutes later.
i was crushed…but i had to get to the end.
and i did.
and so. back i go on sunday.
to the city of angels. to the city of my birth.
and i wonder if i can run past that spot
and keep running.
without crying. without shaking.
and i take that little lost los angeles girl
and i pick her up and dust her off
and i bring her to the finish line…
and i. i will be cheering the loudest.