A marathoner is forever

​I ran a marathon yesterday. It was my 6th. In many ways, though, I felt like a first-timer.

We were several miles into our race when my friend Tiffany picked something up off the ground and raced ahead and said, "I think she's going to want this." I had no idea what 'this' was until the woman she caught up with took what Tiffany gave her and promptly affixed it - with great enthusiasm I might add - to her right buttock.

It was a sticker that said "first time."

It was after that when I noticed all the people along the race course cheering on those runners wearing first time stickers. They celebrated those first-timers with a little more enthusiasm than they did us sixth timers. I think they knew what I knew - my friend Tiffany was in the middle of a life-changing journey.

When you understand the magnitude of that change, you can't help but cheer a little louder.

Tiffany and I cheered each other for the first ten miles or so. The miles went by quick. At one point I said, "I don't remember miles ever going by so quickly." We were having fun conversations amongst ourselves and with those cheering crowds.

That's all a bit ironic since Tiffany and I agreed before we ever started the race that we WOULD NOT be talking to one another. We are the perfect pair, we said, because neither of us are big fans of talking while running...

It was shortly after mile 10, though, when the conversations came to an abrupt hault. The fun slowly started to die. We were entering the miles that keep a lot of marathon dreamers from becoming marathoners.

At the half-marathon mark, Tiffany actually said out loud - the fun is gone.

I told her good. Now we get to rely on guts, not enjoyment. I reminded her of the times this summer when she texted me during a long run. "I've gone ten miles," she'd say, "and I can't imagine ever going any further than this."

Then the next week she'd go 12 - and then 14 and eventually 20. I reminded her of all the times the running challenges felt impossible, yet she ran on and redefined them as possible.

It's funny - for the past year or so, Tiffany has done something similar for me. She's been a friend who has consistently reminded me that I will overcome the impossible. Each time I got to mile ten in my life, and the finish line seemed further away than closer, Tiffany has been a friend reminding me - it is there. Keep going.

In the end, she turned into that friend on the course as well. The last six miles of this race were hell for me. It was Tiffany who was suddenly saying, you've got this buddy.

Hearing her say that made me crazy proud of her. Because she WAS looking strong. Her strength -again - became my strength. Those long training runs she did in the heat of the summer were showing up for us both. Those late nights when she'd had a long day being mom and professional and tending to all the people in her life who needed her - those late nights when skipping a run is easier than doing it - and she did it anyways - those nights were showing up for us both.

And in the end, the first-timer gave this sixth-timer a gift.

As I watched Tiffany run down the hill to the finish line soaking in the cheers for a marathoner, I got to relive the day I ran down that hill for the first time. With tears in my eyes, I got to reflect on just how much being a marathoner has meant to me.

I got to reflect on all the beautiful people who have helped me to some finish lines in life I never thought I could get to. There is no greater gift to give someone in life than coming alongside them and helping THEM discover THEM.

Because we are ALL capable of far more than we give ourselves credit for. Sometimes it just takes someone believing in us.

Sometimes it just takes someone cheering us on as first-timers, knowing that won't last long.

First-timers become life-timers. And that is a beautiful thing.

I'm proud of you Tiffany.

Forever a marathoner. Forever a friend.