Sunday, November 7. 2010
I wanted to be part of the marathon somehow. I didn’t want to just be sitting in a chair somewhere along the route and hoping to make eye contact when she went by. This started out as such a big deal and she trained so intensely for several months.
Ironically, after we got back together, she has trained a lot less and she even said recently that actually running the marathon isn’t so important now. She’s still going to do it, and I wanted to be there in some capacity, so I volunteered to be a traffic director at one of the intersections.
They put me at about the 11 mile mark, so I saw her not quite halfway through. I got a chance to jog over alongside her and encourage her for a hundred yards of so before going back to my spot. She said she was doing well and she had gotten in a little group of people from her Galloway training group and they were helping each other.
I brought my bike with me, so when the last runner had gone by and my responsibility was over, I headed out on two wheels to look for her on the course. I had no idea where she might be, so I rode to the finish and worked my way backward. I found her at around mile 21 and she was struggling. I could tell she was in pain, so I stayed with her, talking to her and trying to keep her mind off it.
I knew from working at a fitness center during college that if you talked with someone who was having a hard time working out, it would pass the time quicker and help them forget about how they were feeling. I figured it couldn’t hurt to use that strategy now and it worked. She still had to get through those last five miles and I just kept talking to her and riding along beside her.
We finally reached a sign that said “26 miles down, .2 to go.” We couldn’t see the finish line yet, but knew it was just ahead. About that time, Angie was waiting along the side of the street and she started running in her high heels and cheering Ceecee on. As we came around the corner, I let her go and cross the finish line by herself. It didn’t seem right for me to cross it, since I wasn’t a runner in the race. This was her victory, her moment, and it was for her alone.
The Restoration Tour 