Action 404 - Experience A Different Race.

As promised, after I finished my running the La Jolla Half Marathon today, I stayed behind to cheer on everyone who finished behind me. Mr. Run Jester Run, Ed Ettinghausen, gave me a heads-up about what to expect.

You want to know a little secret? The satisfaction that comes from being there at the finish and cheering each runner in is rewarding beyond what words can describe. Every time someone thanks me for being there for them, I think to myself, “No, I should be thanking you!” You’ll see. I’m warning you, it’s addicting.

Action 404 - Experience A Different Race. And I really did. As I wrote on a status update today, if you want excitement, watch the winners of a half marathon. If you want to see pure emotion, watch the last finishers across the line.



I did that today and it was amazing. I saw experienced runners that, I imagine, were recovering from injuries and were way behind their usual pace. I saw first time runners, many at the beginning of their physical fitness journey, struggling to keep moving. And I saw more than one runner being carried, literally, arms wrapped around the shoulders of two other runners and all moving together towards the finish line.

I cheered for every single one of these runners. And the reactions were often very similar. First, denial. They didn't think the cheers of "Good job, runner! You can do it!" were for them. When they realized the cheers and clapping was for them, they tried to see who was cheering without being obvious. Then we made eye contact and my cheering continued. "You're doing great, keep going!" And then, the best reaction imaginable. A big, wide smile crossed their face and they waved and said, "thank you!"

I understand what Ed was saying about this experience being addicting. I got to see the faces, one after another, of people truly giving everything they had to run down a goal. And for a moment, they knew what it felt like to have the crowd cheer along as they made their way to their finish.

And one other thing I noticed. At first, I was one of many cheering fans. People were waiting for their own runners, so they were happy to clap and yell and support those coming in. But once their person ran by, they left the course and headed over to meet up with them. And soon, it was a very different situation, with very few people standing and cheering. But, as groups of people walked by on their way back to their vehicles, they responded to my cheering a lonely runner by adding their voices. My yelling called their attention to a late finisher, and they cheered, too, as they went by.

Again, Ed, I get it. I was one voice, but that one voice gave other people permission and encouragement to add their own. Positive reinforcement and public support really is contagious.

I share this experience not to make myself the hero, but to thank Ed for inspiring me to do this. I walked away from today's event feeling like I had experienced a whole new type of race. For a few of them, at least, I know I made a difference.

And there are certainly worse ways to spend a couple of hours.

Edited to Add:
Know this, folks. I'm not ashamed to admit that I shed more than a few tears last Sunday. Partly because the emotions on display were so raw and authentic, partly because I recognized the fear and anxiety on the faces as my own expression from just two years ago... when the thought of running a mile was overwhelming and scary.

("Look at the fat guy running. Sheesh!"
~ The voices I imagined I would hear if I dared to run.)

So, if you see me next time cheering on the last finishers, and I'm wiping my face, it's just drops of "I am so proud of these runners" in my eyes.

Action 401 - Do The Deed.

It's 5:30am and I'm sitting in my car in the Del Mar Fairground parking lot.





In less than two hours, I'll be across the Start Line and on my way to La Jolla.

Action 401 - Do The Deed. Running, I mean.

Because that is really what this is all about. At the end of the day, this isn't about prep work or eating right. It isn't about expos or medals. And it isn't about mornings at the gym or nights spent packing a bag. It's all about the running.

For two and a half hours, give or take, I'll be on the road. I'll be repeating the same basic motion, putting one foot in front of the other, covering mile after mile until I'm at the Finish Line. In that time, my thoughts will wander. I'll think about everything, and the good stuff twice. I'll miss friends and wish for running partners. I'll admire the view and curse the hills. I'll sing along to music and make up stories in my head about the other runners.

All the while, though, I'll run.

And there is something very pure and authentic in that for me. Regardless of whatever else is happening in this great big world, I know what is ahead for me.

Excuse me, now. I've got to run.

Action 392 - Watch The Road.

Sunday is the La Jolla Half Marathon. I only signed up because I want the San Diego Triple Crown Medal this year, and I'm already planning to run Carlsbad Half Marathon and the AFC Half Marathon. I've been worried about the hill, though. It's a monster. I knew it was there when I registered, but I just put it out of my head.

Action 392 - Watch The Road. And for the last couple of days, I have been. Why? Because I work on Camino del Mar, and the La Jolla Half Marathon course will take me directly past my office. From my desk, I can look out the window and see the road where I will run less than forty feet away.



This is a first for me. I have never lived or worked on the actual race course before. It's been a bit weird, really. But for better or worse, it's been on my mind for days. And come Sunday, I'll run that road, climb that hill, and secure that medal.

Come on, La Jolla Half. I'm ready.