Poetry, music, forests, oceans, solitude – they were what developed enormous spiritual strength.  I came to realize that spirit as much or more than physical conditioning, had to be stored up before a race.

 – Herb Elliot, Olympic champion and world record holder in the mile,

 trained barefoot, wrote poetry, and retired undefeated.

 Two weeks before the marathon I airbnb’d my apartment and took off.  First stop – Atlanta, to see my sister and nieces who are 8 and the youngest would turn 6 while I was visiting.  I had to see them.  And not because I always have to see them.  But because I had to see them before my race.  I needed to store up all of their love, and have it fresh in my heart before attempting to run 26.2 miles.

     Before I land anywhere that I am going I like to journal my intentions for the trip.  I like to write about all of the things that I want to accomplish, experience, the positive energy that I want to maintain – to spread.  They all really sound the same.  Be present.  Enjoy the moment.  Take it all in.  Make magic, make memories, take pictures, take mental pictures and forget about your phone.

     I got in late on Thursday.  I wouldn’t even take my suitcase from my sister’s car.  We left first thing in the morning to get our girls out of school, because after all the mountains were calling us.  Two hours later we were in the Smoky Mountains at their cabin, tucked deeply into the foothills.  The only thing that could have made this any more magical was the fact that my Dad had driven 10 hours through the night from Indiana to meet us.  My heart was nearing explosion.  We don’t see our Dad nearly enough, so when we do it feels like Christmas.  My sister and I are very strong, independent women.  We are resilient warriors, and we needed each other that weekend like we’ve never needed each other before.  And we rarely admit it or talk about it, but we need our Dad too, and the miraculous fact that he was there made everything right.  Snap went my mental camera.

 
We’d spend the weekend making campfires, roasting marshmallows, drinking coors lights and eating birthday cake – celebrating our little Sienna.  I set up my tripod and posed my family all over the woods, putting it on the timer and running in to join them.  Capturing moments and making memories.  We would wake up early and watch the woods come alive while drinking our coffee, listening to the stream that furiously flows alongside the driveway, the birds singing, and the little voices of our baby girls echoing through the trees.  I could feel my gratitude, my love, and my spirit rising.  Snap.

     That Saturday morning my sister and I ran 5 miles down country roads with barely a car passing us.  We stared up at the mountains in awe of each individual tree making its mark on our existence.  We spoke of our relationships and their troubles.  We opened up completely.  That is the beauty of our relationship now – we can be totally honest with one another because we know that our honesty, our humanity and vulnerability will not be judged, nor scorned, but will be received with love, with compassion, and most importantly with empathy.  This kind of safety is rare, and I treasure it.  Snap.

     That afternoon we road tripped through the mountains to go zip lining.  I watched as my 6 year old, generally fearless niece suddenly get cold feet.  She wouldn’t go.  She cried and cried and begged for us to take her home.  To be honest I was a little uneasy as I took my first step off into questionable suspension.  But we were relentless in her overcoming what terrified her, and refused to give into her demands.  It took us a long time to get her to trust that she wouldn’t fall.  And then she did it.  She beat her fear, letting her feet leave the platform, allowing the zip line to carry her tiny body high above the forest floor, through the air and into the arms of my sister.  After that she was flying all over the place without any kind of hesitation.  It was difficult after two hours of doing this to get her down.  I wondered how many other times in her life she would find herself there, standing before what scared her.  I hoped that she would always remember that moment – her courageous leap of faith on her 6th birthday.  I wanted her to never forget how much joy and freedom that brought her.  It’s a good lesson for all of us.  She had seen her edge.  I knew that in the very near future, I too would see mine.  Would I, like my niece, go beyond it?  Snap.

We drove back to Atlanta on Sunday morning.  Upon arriving I immediately went out for my 12 miler, where for a couple of hours I let my mind travel back in time when I was a Georgia girl, raising all kinds of hell with my two best friends/roommates/partners in crime.  All of our adventures of tailgating, dating, and just general college life/drama/growth passed through my mind.  The three of us were quite something.  I like to think that downtown Athens would never be quite the same after us.  All of those retrospective snapshots.

     Sunday night my sister and I shared a very spiritual moment after putting the two princesses to bed.  She had turned the room the ex used into a meditation room, which I found genius, and we sat on yoga mats as incense burned and meditation music softly played.  We drew Chakra cards and read them aloud.  She led me through a beautiful meditation.  I could actually feel both of our broken hearts healing one another’s.  From the moment I landed to this moment on our mats, little by little, our wounds were mending.  And it all became so clear.  We were both put on this planet to tell our stories, to share and connect with the Universe, to inspire, to lead, to love.  All of us were.  I knew right then that whatever didn’t work out in my life, whatever I would lose, everything would still be okay – I had her.  I am so comforted by this realization.  We joke about our fear of dying alone – that we won’t have anyone there to hold our hand as we slip away from this world.  I have reassured her that I have lived a bit harder to make up for the 6 year age difference so that we would be going at the same time.  We could hold hands and journey to the beyond together.  She was my life partner, and I hers.  As long as we had each other, we would never be alone.  Snap, snap.

And with all of this magic in me I boarded my next flight that would deliver me home, to Indiana, in the fall.

To be continued…