Why I am here ? Is there a greater motive for me to be here ? My holistic aunt believes everything happens for a reason and so do I, right ?… The sky is blue, the clouds are white, my feet are wet. MY FEET ARE WET !!!
At that point I had realized that I was both delirious and screwed up. I had reached the final section of the race and that meant facing the unforgiving waves that, without consent, hugged your feet tight. I went from running, to jogging, to walking in a matter of seconds; beaches are a whole other level people !!! I felt like walking on jello, which means, my effort was inversely proportional to the distance I was covering and I was not having it !!! My shoes were soaking wet, my feet incredibly heavy, and my body giving in.
When they say running is more mental than physical, they mean it. I reached a point where I was so physically exhausted, my body ceased to exist and my mind took over¹. I kept fighting the natural order of things only because I needed to prove myself that I was able to accomplish anything. Regardless of the challenges, I was strong, I had to be. Of course all of this had little to do with the race. I was canalizing all my personal frustrations through this event and, without anticipating it, I had found the greatest form of therapy.
Between my recently discovered Wonder Woman complex and the “competitive” attitude building in, I was definitely not going to let that group of chilling teenagers reach the finish line before me. Because I was so experienced, fierce, and wise.. I decided to take my shoes off.. Screw them ! They were bricks slowing me down and who needs shoes after all ?! I am sick of this situation and if they are ahead of me barefoot, I can make it work too ! Of course, with that kind of determination, I did get ahead of them.. At my own expense.
Let me tell you that these kids were not even registered in the race nor cared about it. They were a group of friends chilling at the beach who probably thought I was a crazy lady lost from a high tech expedition. To make things worse, my bold, not so wise, inexperience based decision completely backfired me. The sand at that place was anything but loose and smooth. Teeny tiny rocks were stuck to my wet feet, which later entered my shoes, which I put on again -without socks- to run the last few miles of the race. I could feel the friction of the rocks against my skin, I could feel how it tore and how it bled. My shoes were already red, so I could not tell how bad it was but, to be honest, I had reached a point were blood was the least of my worries. I only wanted to put an end to the 21k of heaven and hell and prove myself and the cute jerk that this “overdressed” newbie was fierce and bold too.
I had started to see people again and was slowly reentering civilization, I was closer to the finish line and I could feel it, I could literally feel it.. There is a thing about proximity and bowel movement that never ceases to amaze me; my urge to go to the restroom reappeared and that could only mean one thing, I was near the finish line ! Speedy Gonzales was back and between both him and my Wonder Woman alter ego, I was able to cross the finish line with a huge smile on my face and an indescribable feeling of satisfaction. The adrenaline was such, I can’t recall the faces, nor the specifics of that moment, only my name and a 3h30min after it, and I… I was happy, blisters and all.
¹ I will leave the whole Mind/Body philosophical problem to the actual philosopher of the team.