Viva part two

So I'm in the airport waiting for a very delayed flight. I have a client meeting in less than twelve hours. Should be fun.

But back to the race...

I was in a corral with a guy from Denver who told me that he walked the last two half marathons in less than three hours- that made me feel better. Either way the waiting was agony. There was a rush of excitement once our corral began to move and before I knew it, I was running under the start line (a bridge over the boulevard with a blues brothers band on it).



Almost instantly I had to pee. Fml.

One wierd thing about my psyche when I run is that I always have this disturbing feeling like everyone is passing me. This time was no different. It was a couple miles in when I finally had the guts to look back, fearing that I would see no one however I saw tons of people! Like thousands! Perhaps I could do this after all.

Meanwhile, with every portapotty I passed the lines got longer and my need got stronger.

I spent the first part of the race in utter amazement. I was really running this. It was really happening. I was on the strip in Vegas with 30000 other runners and I wasn't bringing up the tail end! There was the MGM then the new aria and cosmopolitan, then the bellagio. Then here was the Venetian, where countless couples were celebrating run through weddings.

Sick thing is that most of those people still beat me!



4.5 miles into the race and I finally gave in to the need to pee. I waited in line with a lady who I had been running near the whole time. I took a picture of her shirt as proof for my stepm-mother that she isn't too old to run one of these with me...



Then we got to the end of the traditional strip and I passed the farthest point in which I had ever ran. I was now boldly going where no Jodi had ever gone before, seeking out a new life, new accomplishments and challenges... In other words, at this point I was in unfamiliar territory- I remembered that I really no idea how long this run would be given that I hadn't ran even close to the same distance... but, one foot after the other and I continued on my way, even giving a cheer Or two to the high school cheerleaders on the sidelines.

One claim to fame of this run is that there are bands at each mile point. I though they would be a welcome distraction from the running, however, once I got into the zone I had to rely on the only thing I knew - my iPhone. Next thing I new it we were turning and making the loop around freemont street HALFWAY!!!!! I wanted to scream with delight at the top of my lungs! Then... My feet reminded me that I had already ran 6.5 Miles and my head reminded that I had another 6.5 miles to go. This next leg of the race would be the most difficult mentally for me. Suddenly I lost my groove- I had long lost the greatgrand mother and was being passed by more than one group of strong-minded runners.



There was one woman ahead of me, and judge me you may, who looked a lot like Shawna. I may have been deluding myself at this poor, but I thought if I just kept focus on her I could keep pace and finish. I am sure hey looked nothing alike but it worked for what I needed.

Back on the strip and passing the stratosphere my body began to ache. I wholly expected my knee to be in agony by this point and was unpleasantly surprised by the strong ache emanating from my ankle, previously broken in a very dumb activity. the ache shot up my entire leg, as the rest of my body compensated the best it could. At this point I walked almost as much as I ran. I had so little left. The water stations were making me angry- their tiny little cups did nothing to quench my thirst so finally I grabbed the jug they were using to fill these sad little cups and filled my water bottle to the brim. I did this once more before the race was finished.



By this time it was late enough in the morning that the usual Vegas tourists began to line the streets gawking with morbid curiosity at those crazy people who came to sin city to showcase their life of virtue.

Halfway up the strip and I hit the two more important milestones in the race. Firstly, i passed the 15km mark. Three quarters of the race were over. My mind frame in the last quarter would shift from agony and desperation to agony, desperation, achievement and pride. I would be finishing this race. Then the realization that I may just finish under three hours, my secret goal for finishing. Secondly, the Mandalay bay sign emerged in the distance, the rainbow to the finish lines pot of old. The end was in sight and no matter the strain, agony and physical cry to give up, my mind took over- god dammit I was going to finish even if I had to run two minutes then walk two. At this point I was not sure what was more painful, that or straight running.



At some Point my desire to win got spiritual, I had lost the Shawna alike and focused my attention on the shirt of the lady ahead of me, which attributed her strength to gods will. That would do for me. I prayed, asking for just a little extra oomph and for some companionship as this was starting to feel like quite the lonely endeavor.

Then I thought of Shawna. she was the inspiration for my run in the first place. It was her running room sweatshirt hanging in the front of the funeral home that gave me the inspiration. I had never took the time to be inspired by her in life, sadly it took her death for me to see her strength and want to emulate it rather than avoid it as as a reminder that she was stronger than me. This run was a year in the making. I had thought of her countless times, on my way home from work and after the gym, wondering if in another life I was still in lethbridge and we were running together.

Then I played her song - Buble's "let me go home". Prior to her death I listened to this song over and over on my way home from Europe, knowing that I was coming home to T.J. to be his forever and forever. Then it became a symbol of her good bye. Then my way of tapping into her strength. My one year of grieving was coming to a close mile by mile, step by step.

The finish line kept getting farther away. The bay was in full sight but where did this fucking thing end??? Turns out that the end was in the parking lot. There were thousands of people watching and cheering. Every step was agony and I couldnt wait to finish. I honestly wondered if I could lift my feet high enough to avoid tripping on the white plastic buttons used in place of white lines on the road.

Then it was done and I was finished. First stop was water, then ice for my head and ankle, then the best banana I had ever tasted. My sense of accomplishment was stronger than anything in my life, and was only slightly tempered by the aching in my legs.



I had just ran a half marathon. Even though my time would later show I ran it in just over three hours, I had exceeded my expectations.

I found T.J. At the K sign, and cried like a baby while he held me.

A pizza and four hour nap later, we would both be sore and walking funny for days.

You know, before I began I hated running. Those of you who played various sports with me would remember that I was always the last one, gasping desperately for air. I ran to remember, to forget, to challenge myself and to prove to myself once again that there are no limits to what I can achieve, and no hurdles others than those I occasionally and inadvertently impose on myself.

Ultimately, I look back and smile, and hope that one day someone may take up the same challenge that I accepted from an amazing woman in a funeral home.

Ps. for those who wish to join me, I'll be beating my time in Vancouver In May.

Viva Las Vegas 2010!

So what a weekend!

For those of you who don't know, I have been "training" for a half marathon since shortly after Shawna died. She was a runner, and the image of her running room sweatshirt hanging in the funeral home next to her ashes stuck in my head for quite some time. Long distance running was ALWAYS something i was terrible at. What better way to look life/death in the face and say "I'm not afraid of you" than picking something you despite, and learning to love it in the name of a lost friend? When I ran, every time that I thought I could go no further, push myself no harder, I thought of her.

It just so happened to be that the Las Vegas Rock and Run was approximately 1 year from her funeral. So I ran it.


And what a run it was! I must first admit that I haven't trained that well lately. Laziness has gotten the best of me (and it doesn't help that it is cold in Edmonton, and the sun won't shine outside of office hours until next March). Excuses, excuses, I was full of them. I came to Las Vegas scared shitless that I wouldn't finish, let her down and look like a fool.

Then I saw the advertisement for Garth Brooks in the airport.

Now... for those of you who don't know me, I am easily distracted. And I am one with impulse purchases. Now picture me, in the airport, making a mad dash for change so I can use the public phone to call and get tickets to my childhood idol. I mean, c'mon, the guy was on my bucket list! After determining the tickets would cost me a fortune, but that there was a seat available at the 10:30 show (the night before the 6:45 am race...) I bit the bullet and bought a ticket - I mean, I'd make it back to the Luxor from the Wynn at 1 am at the latest, giving me lots of time to sleep...

It was worth every penny. He can sing... and sing... and play one mean guitar. The theatre only sat 1400, and, with it being the national finals rodeo here this weekend, half the audience wore stetsons, and the other half had simply left theirs in their hotel room. It was second only to Elton John. It was nothing but Garth, his guitar and some lighting effects. Oh yeah, and his wife Trisha Yearwood! I mean, holy crap! He went through his life and what music inspired him (starting in the 60s). Tell you the truth, he didn't even play that many of his own songs, probably 10 max - the rest were Merle Haggart, Elton John, America, Randy Travis, the Beatles, and countless others (approximately 75-100 in total, though he didn't play the whole song, just the best parts!)



I laughed, I cried, I stood up to give a thundering applause more than once. He even put up the house lights and did a question and answer at the end (and even took requests!)

Then I took the train back to the Luxor at 2 AM.


For those of you who know a little about Las Vegas, you know its late when your on the Monorail all by yourself.

But again, the three hours of sleep that I got the night before the half marathon was worth every penny!

So, Sunday morning, up at 5:30 AM (see, in Vegas, it takes 20 minutes to walk to the next hotel, and with 30,000 people walking the same direction, it takes 45 minutes, so we had to be up really early, even though the race didn't start until 6:45). I was in corral 27, my bib number was 27384. My D-chip was tied to my laces (to track my time), and I was ready to run... or walk, in a mass of people through Luxor to the Mandalay Bay parking lot. I have never seen that many people.

Now, I had been warned that it could take as long as 45 minutes for my corral to actually start the race. It took us 41 minutes. The gun would go off for each group, and each corral would move up closer to the start line. I was in 27 of 32, so you can imagine how long I had to wait. It was interesting to see what people were wearing - there were many Canucks, you could tell by the light clothing they were wearing. Those from the southern USA were wearing mittens - that made me laugh. Part of the race process was that they would donate any clothing you threw on the street to charity, so many a hoodie was discarded along Las Vegas Boulevard.

For 41 minutes I watched runners pass by - so many Elvis', the occasional Marilyn Monroe, and even Big Bird, and Elmo. There was even a spongebob Elvis. Talk about crazy - here I was, not even sure if I would finish, and people are dressed up in uncomfortable costumes? This oughtta be good. Anyway, i had 41 minutes to contemplate my life, as corral after corral of much faster runners bolted past the start line, onto the Las Vegas strip.

My main thought at this point? Dear God, please don't accept my resignation in the next 13.1 miles (20.9 Kilometres).