The Victory Lap

I wiped the sweat from my eyes to look up at what the other tiring legs were sighing at.
The mile 21 marker looked like a golden scepter to me; reaching down from the heavens for me to hastily snatch.

I smiled to myself, laughed even.
I felt so strong even in the midst of warm air and sore feet.
My body wove in and out of runners walking with heads down and wobbling knees.
I bounced up the hills, shouting encouraging words to the disheartened.

26 miles of running felt like a graceful dance on broadway compared to any training run.

My tutu flipped up and down, waving to little girls with widened eyes at the girl trudging by men five times her size.

"Oh man, a girl just passed us...a girl wearing a tutu and a bow for crying out loud."

At mile 24 I still had the energy to high five every kid with a cowbell I could see.

This was my victory lap.

Victory after all the training.
Victory over my fears.
Victory over not feeling good enough.
Vicinity over beating myself up with distorted body image.
Victory over my past.
Victory over my regrets.
Victory over everyone in my life that didn't have the guts to stick out the race with me.

I was victorious.
I was strong.
I was sure of myself and my abilities.

I was sure of the fact that in that moment, bent down to graze the hand of a child that I had never looked or felt more beautiful.

My hair was frizzy.
My face was covered in lost salt from the rising temperatures.
But I was a fearless woman, carrying herself with only the strength that she alone had built.

I did the work.
I ran the miles even when life spit at me in every direction.
I had built this tower of independence and pure fierceness with tiny moments of discipline, one brick at a time.

A marathon teaches you a lot about your body, but it will always teach you more about your spirit.

My spirit is not one to mess with.

My spirit is a warrior trapped in a mascot's body.

My training taught my body how to run through fatigue.

My marathon taught my spirit how to race through pain with grace.

Strangers screamed so loud for my sprinting legs you would have thought they were life long friends.

I rounded the corner of mile 26 crying tears of complete joy.

I wasn't happy the race was over, I was happy I finally realized the true run of victory had just begun.

The young woman hung a medal around my sunburned neck yelling, "Go you! So proud of you!"

I laid down in the grass, whispering only for myself to hear, "yeah, me too."