¡Muchísimas Gracias!

A full week after the marathon, I happy to say that I'm fully recovered and walking quite normally again! But even though the pain and soreness has faded, the overwhelming feelings of gratitude I've felt during the training, race, and recovery definitely haven't faded. Let me tell you, I am one lucky girl.

Team Taller de José with Taller's executive director, Sr. Kathy

Thanks to my wonderful supporters, I've raised a total of $2,146.20 in support of the ministry of Taller de José!! I was pretty nervous and worried about asking for donations a second year in a row, not because I doubted others' generosity but because I didn't want to be that person who's asking for money every time you see her. But my convictions about the work I'm a part of at Taller de José overrode my aversion to fundraising, and I am so grateful that the response was one of overwhelming support and generosity. (And I suppose that doesn't necessarily rule out me being that girl, but it's wonderful to know that so many people are willing to support our ministry even if they aren't thrilled about being asked for money!).

And thanks to my amazing family and friends, I had people I knew cheering me on at 11 different spots on

Having my running buddy as my "compañera"
 for the last 5 miles made a huge difference!

the course. That's incredible!! People have mentioned that in the photos* I look happier than any normal person should look in the middle of a 26 mile run, and I think that's a testament to the fact that seeing the people you love supporting and cheering you on can override all sorts of aches and pains and exhaustion. Trust me, those smiles always meant "I'm so excited to see you, thanks for being here," and never meant "whoo hoo! I have 20 more miles to go!" :) A special thank you goes out to my family and roommates who set a public transportation record by making it to SEVEN different spots on the course! And there were so many people who couldn't be there in person but were there in spirit through their prayers, notes of inspiration, and text messages on race day and the days leading up to it.

So I can't express enough how grateful I am to everyone who has accompanied me throughout this journey. I believe so strongly in the ministry of accompaniment because I know what a difference it has made to have so many wonderful companions in my own life. I finished the race in 4:52:40, which I was absolutely thrilled about -- it was over 30 minutes faster than last year's time-- but I didn't and couldn't have done it alone.

¡Muchísimas Gracias!

* If you haven't seen all the  photos yet, this here are some more photos my family took and some from the official marathon photographers

More than "Just Spectators"

This is it, folks— only 2 more training miles stand between me and the starting line at 8am Sunday morning! I am so overwhelmed by the support I've received throughout the process; your prayers, donations, words of encouragement, and presence have made it possible to complete the almost 500 training miles leading up to this point. I And I'm thrilled to report that I've received a total of $1,926.20 in donations so far!! I'm still hoping to raise another $73.80 for a total of $2,000 so if you were considering a donation it's not too late! (see the donation information on the right hand column of this blog).

Sometimes the best signs are the ones that make you
 laugh, even if they aren't exactly "encouraging" :)

I recently read a brief article in Runner's World about the role of spectators at a marathon, and the truth of it nearly made me tear up. I've shortened it a little here, but I thought it was worth sharing. For those of you who will be here in person, know that it means the world to me, and for those of you that will be there in spirit, know that I'll be thinking of you when I see the thousands of spectators cheering on me and my fellow runners. Thank you so much to all the "spectators" in my life!

An excerpt from "Standing Ovation" by Mark Remy:

In fact, the word spectator–from the Latin spectare, "to observe"–seems inadequate. It suggests passivity, and crowds who turn out for marathons are anything but passive. Marathon spectators shout. They clap. They play bagpipes and kettle drums. They rattle cowbells and scream your name, if they know it. If they don't, they latch onto any identifier–"Go, Team in Training!" "Go, Sparkly Skirt!" "Go, Runner's World!"They hold handmade signs that make you laugh. ("You Should Have Taken a Dump When You Had the Chance.")

I've been buoyed by people cheering by name for the guy next to me, and by "Go Mommy" and "Go Daddy" signs held up by someone else's kids. I call this "secondhand inspiration."

It's a cultural universal: Every year, untold millions of spectators materialize to urge runners on at marathons around the world.... I don't know when or where, exactly, turning out to watch other people run became a "thing."... But I'm glad it is. I can't imagine ever running 26.2 miles without the crowds. And yet it's easy to take them a little bit for granted.

...maybe it's because our own private "support crews" are so good at what they do. During months of training, they put up with our aches and pains; they watch us vanish for hours at a time to do our workouts and long runs; they listen to us blather on about mileage and nutrition and ice baths. They indulge us.

On race weekend, of course, they're the ones who kick into high gear just as we're downshifting to prepare for race day. They travel along with us, carrying our stuff and eating when, and where, we want. They soothe our nerves. They study course maps to plot out where they'll have the best chances of seeing us. They wonder whether, logistically, they can catch us at mile three and again at mile 11, and still make it to the finish in time, if they hustle. They stand, often in poor weather and often for an hour or more, staring at a sea of grimacing runners as they wait for their grimacing runner to appear. 

And when we do, they go nuts.

They do all of this for us.

Not only that, but they do it with humility. How many times have you heard a runner's spouse or partner at a race say that he or she is "just here to watch"?  

Just!  

The tragedy in Boston spawned several social-media memes. One was the notion that, in the face of this horror, "We are all runners." It's a fine sentiment, but I'd tweak it just slightly. On April 15, in the space of 13 awful seconds, we all became spectators. (Even those of us who are, in fact, runners.) As events unfolded, we sat and watched. But we rallied, quickly and loudly. We came together to voice support, to assure the victims–and each other–that we're strong and we'll get through this. 

If that doesn't say "spectator," I don't know what does. 

Noticing the Sunrise

I was crabby. I had to be at the office by 7:30am for an accompaniment that I knew could last me 4+ hours, and I had a to-do list a page long. A part of me was questioning whether the client really "needed" me there or if it was going to be a waste of time. And to top it off, we had to walk to the bus stop in the rain. Needless to say, it was not my best morning.

But, then, throughout the course of the 5-hour accompaniment, my client and her beautiful 3-month-old baby began transforming my heart. Transforming it from a heart that was closed-off and so focused on the ever-present to-do list that it didn't have time to see or care about the people in front of it to a heart that had time and space to sit and listen to someone else's story and hopes, time to make the to-do list less of a priority.

And perhaps my client could have navigated the public transportation, the 11 elevator rides at the Daley Center, and the language barriers during the interactions with the courthouse clerks and judge, all while navigating the Daley Center with a 3-month-old in a baby carrier. She is a very capable woman, after all. But the bottom line is that I believe she really appreciated my presence, both for the practical assistance I was able to provide in navigating a complex legal process (including the extra set of hands to help with the baby) and for the companionship throughout the day. We discussed her joys and struggles raising her three children alone, her family back home, questions about where she could take English classes, and her hopes and fears for the future. I fed her son and rocked him to sleep, and was touched by her trust when she asked me to watch him while she meet with the legal aid organization that was assisting her.

Thanks to our interaction, she is now one step closer to resolving her legal issue, and I was reminded to look up from my to-do list to really see the individual clients with whom I have the blessing to interact. It's not unlike the ways I have to remind myself to look up from the pavement to see the sunrise on my early morning runs that often feel like a drudgery. And just like the sunrise, I think the reminder was well worth rolling out of bed a little earlier for.

A sunrise I was lucky enough to witness on a run along the lakeshore.