Posted by: canaryinacoalmine | November 21, 2006

Like the bad club med commercial- Philly Part 1

“Leave me. you’re making me stress. I will do better with out you.”
   “No. I’m not leaving without you.”
“Please. Just go.”
“If I’m still stressing you at the next mile I will.”
“Just go now.”
We stood off to the right of the road on Chestnut street in Center City Philadelphia.  Carlin wanted us to break 4 hours…so did I.  My stomach was upset and puffy.  I never eat breakfast prior to a run.  I broke a marathon training rule that morning and ate oatmeal. Such an action is the adultery to marathon training,  thou shalt not change eating habits prior to a race.  I succumbed to my Mother’s advice…er..nagging.  My stomach was poofy, full of uncomfort.  My sister’s legs were freshly trained and raring to knock it out.  Mile 9 hit me like a tour de force facing the lockness monster head on.  Carlin said, “We’re pacing an 8 minute mile.” 10 minutes later “Okay now we’re at 8:40.”  A mile later,   “We sped up again. We’re back to 8.”  
  Lifting up my shirt I said, “Look. Have you EVER seen my stomach look like this?”  Her eyes rolled down my shirt from my belly and back up to meet me eye to eye. “No. I’m not. Don’t be ridiculous.  I shouldn’t have ate breakfast.”  Relieved and half amused at my puffy stomach she simply released, “That’s why I wish we had started at 7 ’cause it makes it hard when you eat dinner early.”  ” Yeah,” I answered, “and I never eat like we did last night.”  “Me neither,” she responded.
Pointing to the side of the road Carlin said, “There’s my friend Anne Marie.”
“Hi. This is my sister Jessica.”
“From Texas?”
“Yes, hi – oh what cute little curls you’re little one has.” Car tugged my shirt.
“Bye.  See you later.”
“Good luck.”
Good luck?  Were they on to my ailments or hers?  Earlier in the week I had spent an entire day sick in bed.  Carlin pulled a hamstring 3 days prior and thought she had broke a toe.  However, we had a mission. We were running for Ruby.
When mile 11 hit, my insides felt like a  capped off tornado unable to erupt.   I forgot to bring my inhaler (uh oh) and the same injury that took me out of the Chicago marathon two years earlier was flaring caution, my IT band.  Carlin continued to forge on.  “I turned it off (her GPS pacer). I’ll just go at your pace.”   I reiterated,  “Just go. Please. I’ll do better without you.”  This time we were in the middle of the road and she was unsure how to get out of this one, both of us more stubborn than the other.
Pulling the proverbial marathon life jacket of rest breaks she said, “Go on without me. I’ll catch up. I’m going to stop and go to the bathroom.”  I walked for a minute then picked up my dignity, pride and remembered no matter what I was going through at the moment, our CAUSE was greater than 26.2 miles.  A half mile later I was following the path with the Schuylkill river on my right and peering through tree branches scanning the crowd for her.  I spotted my sister winding the curve.  She ran without hesitance weaving in and out of runners until she pulled up next to me.  Nice and slow. Easy does it.
She caught me half way between Bare Naked Ladies and Hinder blaring through the ear phones on my IPOD. “I was crying. I thought you hid from me and made me go on with out you.”
 “I’d trip you before I let you leave me.”
She smiled. We continued to run when a stranger in the crowd said, “GO RUN FOR RUBY.”
Together we turned, “Thank-you.” 
To Be Continued…..
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Responses

  1. my friend ran the philly marathon. he finished 5,800 and something but he is 65.

  2. i think i might be single again

  3. Wendi, does that mean i won our bet? Just kidding. At least you didn’t buy him a christmas present.

  4. Continued! That is just plan mean! I’m sitting here and waiting…..I’m still here!……..

  5. Sass, I am back blogging again. How have you been?

  6. Bring on part II, damnit! I hate to be continueds.


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