A FAMILY AFFAIR

Flying Pig Marathon: Cincinnati, Ohio, May 5, 2024 – Marathon #47

It’s been two days since the Flying Pig Marathon, and I’ve found myself reliving the weekend over and over again in my mind. Normally, I write about my race experience within hours of finishing, but this time I needed a bit more time to reflect. Going into this weekend, I knew it would be different. Recently, I’ve been struggling with the loss of someone close to me, and I underestimated just how much it was affecting me both mentally and physically. But there was one thing that made this race even more special—it was the first time in my 47-state journey that I got to run with my oldest niece, Ashley, whom I absolutely adore. She signed up for the half marathon while I would run the full, and we’d get to start together. That excitement, plus the added bonus of racing four events with Ashley and her amazing husband Kevin (who were joining me for the 5K), made it extra special.

Friday: Race Weekend Kickoff

The weekend started with a quick 1-mile race on Friday evening. It was a little humid, and there were a few raindrops, but nothing too serious. Afterward, I went back to the hotel and waited for Kevin and Ashley to arrive. While waiting, I had the pleasure of chatting with Dion at the Kinley Hotel in Cincinnati. He was the best—so supportive and kind. I’m not sure of his title, but you could tell he was a leader, and I’m grateful for the kindness he showed all weekend.

Saturday: Racing 10K & 5K

Saturday morning came early with two races on my agenda. The first was the 10K (6.2 miles). The humidity was intense, but my time was solid, and I felt great. I was ready to race again. The second event was the 5K with Ashley and Kevin. Just as we were about to line up, an announcement came across: the race would be delayed due to lightning in the distance. What started as a short delay turned into three hours. There were times when we weren’t sure if the race would even happen. But after a few hours, the rain cleared, and we were finally able to race. Even though it was delayed, it was another great event, and I loved running alongside Ashley and Kevin.

After the race, I met up with my dear friend Ann for lunch. We used to work together in Kansas City, and I hadn’t seen her in years. It was wonderful catching up, and her encouraging words would stay with me as I continued through the weekend, even when I didn’t realize I needed them the most.

Saturday Evening: Marathon Eve

Saturday evening, or as we call it—Marathon Eve—was spent strategizing for the next day. Kevin was going to sleep in a little (he wasn’t running, but was our invaluable course support), and Ashley and I planned to meet at 5:45 AM to head to the start. The race was scheduled to begin at 6:30 AM. By the time I woke up, I had a bad headache but still felt race-ready.

At the start line, Ashley met two of my running friends from Chicago, Thomas and Blake. It’s amazing how the running community works. You meet people once, and just like that, they become friends for life.

Race Day: The Struggle

As the marathon began, I followed my usual strategy: music, focus, and determination. But it was humid, and my headache persisted. By mile 5, I felt nauseous. I tried to push through, reminding myself to hydrate and listen to my body, but things weren’t improving. At that point, I started walking more than running, something I don’t normally do. I was in denial, thinking it would pass, but it didn’t. Every time I tried running, I felt nauseous again. By the time I hit mile 14, I was frustrated and crying. My body was done, but my mind kept saying, “You can’t quit. You have to finish.” My phone was losing power, which meant no music—my usual distraction—so I was left with just my thoughts, and that wasn’t helping.

Then, a text popped up from a friend. Normally, I wouldn’t check my phone during a race, but I was so desperate for a distraction that I read it. It helped carry me through those tough miles. I texted them, saying, “I might die,” and they replied, “No you won’t, you run like this all the time!” They were right. I didn’t die.

I crossed the finish line in 5:48:09, one of my slowest times, but I finished. I didn’t take my medal right away because I was crying and frustrated with myself. Then, I remembered: every race is different, and sometimes you race ugly. But I still finished, and I didn’t give up. And the best part? My friends didn’t give up on me either. They cheered me on, and that positivity kept me going when I wanted to quit.

The Lesson

This weekend taught me a big lesson: remember who you are, know that sometimes you will race ugly, and that’s okay. Never give up or give in. When you want to quit, remember why you started and just keep going—because you’re stronger than you think. And when in doubt, just Run Like Hell.

Thanks to everyone who helped me through this race: Kevin, Ashley, Thomas, Blake, Ann, Dion, and so many others. You all made the difference.