Mommies Paradise

I walked down the hall in a silence interrupted vaguely by the ding of the elevator bell. Of course it was dark outside. It was 4:30 am. I took the silent elevator down. I remembered that my body is strong and that I was ready for this.

The doors to the elevator opened to a shocking amount of people dressed similar to me. They all seemed eager and maybe a little bit caged. They all looked ready.

I found my pace group. These are the people that I have known for the last four months. Every Saturday morning we met. We synchronized, we talked and we breathed. We have listened to the cadence of our shoes pounding on the pavement for miles and miles. And we were sweaty. We were a well-oiled machine at times. At times we were just tired and sore.

And now we are here. It is dark and it is early. And we made it here.

All of our separate pace groups were rounded up and told to follow the sign. We followed the bouncing sign like cattle.

We got closer to the fenced in tents which would later be our finish line and the music was loud. As this area came into view I realized that it was filled with people. Absolutely filled. And I got the idea that this was about more than just our little group of groups.

We kept walking and we were sent to our corrals, based on our pace. We walked to the end of an offramp and were left facing the starting line, which seemed really far away. There was no one behind us. It was 5:00 am. We sat or stretched, and waited. We watched the lights around the starting line.

At 5:55 am we rose to motion and I took a look behind us. The entire offramp was full of people. It looked like a sea of thousands of people. And this was only one corral. We were in Corral E. I can only imagine the crowding in the other corrals. At that very moment I became aware of the vastness of this effort. Not all of these people were running for the cause that I chose, but noble causes all the same.

A man standing beside us had a panel pinned to his back. On the top portion it read Believe. On the bottom portion it read Spinal Cord Tumor Removed 04-2007. And this man was ready to run a half marathon. Rally On my friend.

The fireworks started and the countdown began for the start of the wheelchairs… and they were off. Then the fireworks started and the countdown began for the First Wave of runners… and they ran. And the second countdown started for the Second Wave of runners to be released… and we ran. I did not hear the countdown for the Third Wave but I know they also ran. There were at least 9700+ people running the streets of Anaheim on Labor Day, at dawn.

As if by no accident we started our half marathon with the rising sun. It was awesome.

My pace group stayed together and I continued my role as leader. I can only assume that this was because I can still yell really loud, since everyone seemed to have come up with a watch for the big day. The course was crazy but mostly flat. The heat was already climbing by 6:00 am and the first water stop was a big, wet cluster fuck. I am still a mildly surprised no one was injured. It was like crazed horses trying to run each other down for food or just an escape.

The course wove through both parks, California Adventure and Disneyland, like a maze I would never be able to escape if not for the ropes, cones and people shouting “Runners, stay to the right of the cones…the Right, the RIGHT…!”

Every employee who was on staff that early was instructed, I am sure, to go outside and wave and cheer us on. Disney characters were also on staff for any photo ops should we feel the need to Stop Running (??) and snap a picture. GAH! This happened a whole lot.

As we got out of the parks and into the city course, each mile marker seemed to be stacked with cheering crowds, high-school bands - more drums ladies and gentlemen! (I just typed ‘high bands’ and thought well, is there any other kind?), and people with cow bells. To which I say more cowbell! Hula dancers and a mariachi band with a child as the frontman. It was great! Lame side note: There were tons of local high schools represented along the course. My alma mater, however did not show, even though they are closer to Disneyland than the rest. Slackers!

As we went through the parking lot to the Anaheim Stadium, we were greeted by rows of boy scouts. Yes, Boy Scouts! Yay for Boy Scouts. I was mildly alarmed at the the rather advanced ages of some of these “Boy” Scouts, let me tell you. And hey! Where were the Girl Scouts? Hm? I know there is a chapter in Anaheim. I was in it!

The run continued in the in the constantly rising temperatures. The heat was oppressive and the sun was blaring down on us. People were starting to slow down, even walk more. Our pace group was consistently two minutes ahead of our average time which was a great feeling. We were still strong. Some of us even stronger than we were on our fourteen mile run in August. It was fantastic.

At the ten mile mark were greeted by cheerleaders and their evil, cursed ways. I mentioned that I didn’t really dig cheerleaders to one of my groupmates and within seconds I couldn’t breathe. I felt like someone shoved a golf ball down my windpipe. I blame the cheerleaders. I could probably blame the heat-like-hell’s-fire, but it is more interesting to blame cheerleaders.

I had to fall back and walk the next mile. I got it back together to run the final mile or so and it felt like the longest mile I have ever run. I know I lost time on my final pace by walking, but I wouldn’t have ever crossed the finish line otherwise. That is slightly disappointing.

The course leading up to the finish line was buried in family and friends cheering on their loved ones and anybody else they could see. If anyone could read the name on your bib, they would yell it out. It was amazing.

As I came around the final curve I heard my mom shouting above the din and then I saw her. She was with my son, shouting and waving. I can’t think of a time that I have ever felt more triumphant.

When I crossed the finish line I almost passed out. I couldn’t breathe and I could barely stand up. I also couldn’t stop moving for fear my legs wouldn’t move again. It was all very overwhelming. I was absolutely carried away with emotion and I started to cry.

I knew right then and there that I am indeed strong. It felt amazing to finish this race and for my son to watch me come in. I hope that I can always be that same, proud, triumphant, strong person to him.

I realized that if I had not done this I may not be standing right now. I don’t know what I would have done with my mind this summer, after everything that has occurred since June. But so many things fell into place to make it possible. Even when I thought that I wouldn’t be able to raise the sponsorship funds to keep training, something came through. People came through. I don’t know if these people recognized the great cause that is APLA or that the unofficial cause was my peace of mind, but I have been shocked by the outpouring of aid and support given to me, so that I could continue to train.

I feel safe and I feel loved. I feel so strong that I can not say it enough.

And what I think is so absolutely beautiful is the safe assumption that every single person running yesterday had their very own journey and reason to be there. Every single person had their own story of challenge and triumph. No it was not a full marathon of 26.2 miles, but it was a half marathon and running 13.1 miles is no small feat. A person must be motivated to do that. Oh, and there were 9768 total finishers. That doesn’t take into consideration how many people became injured or simply couldn’t keep the pace and got picked up by The Van. That is a lot of motivation.

And my favorite statistic of all:

5784 Females

3984 Males

Yeah. That is what I thought too.

I am an athlete and I am in good company.