It's Marathon Sunday in the Twin Cities -- when I ran this race last year, I woke up to the harsh reality of unexpected heat and humidity.
Today's weather couldn't be more opposite -- in fact, I turned the HEAT on for the first time this year.
I had a late night with friends, celebrating my re-30th birthday. My street butts up against the marathon course, and my typical routine is to walk down to the end of the block and cheer on the runners. I actually love doing this, and look forward to it every year.
This morning... gloom and doom and rain and wind made me want to huddle under a blanket with the remote control and dog, and not emerge until the sun came out.
But then I remembered... I remembered all the people who came out to cheer me on. I remembered how important the crowd support is, and how during a drizzly half-marathon, I felt sapped of energy due to the lack of support.
I cried, just like I always do, at all the amazing feats of humanity -- a woman ran by me with a shirt that said "Cancer: 0. Me: 4."
I think that's where I burst into tears.
Another woman with a cast on her arm.
Many people dedicating their runs to others...
And I kept clapping and cheering, soaking wet, freezing cold -- because NOBODY'S discomfort compares to that of the runners on this day. This day that they've worked for all summer... this day that could have been beautiful and perfect, and instead was cold and wet.
Runners... you all amaze me.
Off and reflecting,