Back on My Feet

On Sunday I added another marathon to my running resume. Unlike my past two experiences with the Philadelphia Marathon, this race was not about me. I wasn't worried about my time. I didn't give a hoot about placement. And I wasn't at all concerned about how good my butt looked in my running shorts (you know it did HEY-YO). My one and only goal was to make sure the one registered Resident member from Back on My Feet crossed that finish line. Because I knew that adding the word "marathoner" to the description attached to your name can be a life-changing experience.

When you finish your first marathon -- after you get over the dry heaving, dizziness and promises to yourself that you will never, ever do this again (because you will)-- you begin to realize that there really isn't anything you can't do. Suddenly, the world presents a lot more possibilities than you had ever truly considered before. You did this. You worked your ass off. For a long time. You beat it. And whether it's addiction, bad decisions or a past that haunts you, maybe you realize that you can beat that too.

I had a blast every step of the way during this marathon; and that's not something I've really been able to say before and mean it. The happiness that flooded my body when I crossed that finish line with this member filled me with so much energy I felt like I could have run another 10 miles. Usually, I'm just looking for a soft place to keel over and die. But like I said, when you finish a marathon you feel like there's nothing you can't do. Which is why it's probably a good idea that no one let me make any life-altering decisions in the day or two following a marathon.

I will never forget the smile on his face that day. I will never forget the pride I felt for him. I will never forget the hope for a better future.


I've been walking around these past two days in a glow; all gushy with love and possibility and good intentions. So if you do come across me this week, watch your back. I can't promise I won't lick your face. I JUST WANNA HUG!



So yeah. I promise I'll be back to my snarky, offensive self soon. I definitely didn't reach my daily quota of people I've pissed off with this post. I feel like I need to end with something a bit more Yella-flavored. BOOBS! BALLS! I MADE OUT WITH YOUR DAD! AND YOUR MOM WATCHED! Phew, I feel so much better.

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