Surf City Marathon—Michael’s Race

For most runners Surf City is just another marathon, but those 26.2 miles have a very special place in my heart. You see two years ago I decided to take on the Beach Cities Challenge, 3 full-marathons (Surf City, OC and Long Beach) in one year for a special medal.  Surf City 2012 was my first marathon in the series.  I vividly remember that race. A fire sparked within me, my pace was perfectly in sync.  Somewhere around mile 13 a ladybug landed on my arm. He hitchhiked right there for about 2 miles. For those who know me well, you can appreciate how magical that moment was.  The stars were aligned and everything seemed to come together perfectly.  I set a new PR that day.  I was flying high and on top of the world.

The message I listened to on my phone the next morning instantaneously grounded me.  The words I heard were a grave reminder how curious life is.  In being alive, like a roller coaster, there’s a slow climb to the top and then without warning in the blink of an eye we are plummeting toward the bottom of the hill.  The downward descent takes our breath away, holding on tightly we can’t help but feel a little helpless and hopeless. We’ve all been there before.  In our existence we can’t always predict when the wind will be taken out of our sails or how long it will take us to get back to the top. We can only pray by the grace of God our moments at the bottom are quick and painless as possible.

The news I received that my cousin Michael had passed away just a few short hours after I had finished my race left my heart (our hearts) shattered and broken with a gapping hole that will never be repaired.  Knowing that Michael took his life with his own hand still haunts us, family and friends, who loved him dearly.  There are so many what ifs.  What if we would have told him how much he meant to us and how much we loved him? What if we could have showed him like a roller coaster ride, we all fall down and even if it seemed so impossible our arms were there ready to help him stand up again?  There are so many whys.  Why didn’t we see the signs?  Why didn’t we call him and check in more often?  Why did everything seem so wrong?  Why couldn’t he hold on until the storm passed?  There are so what ifs, whys and questions that forever remain unanswered.  All we are left with are our cherished memories of his laughter, his smile, and his loving and kind heart, the tears in our eyes and our broken hearts we know will never quite be the same.  

Yesterday’s race was my second since we lost Michael.  I have to admit it was a very emotional start and finish.  I was already feeling sad and the images of sheriffs walking around with bomb sniffing dogs, a reminder of the Boston Marathon victims, engulfed me into another wave of sadness.  I didn’t fight my heartbreak; I didn’t even try to stop the tears that rolled down my cheeks. 

There weren’t any hitchhiking ladybugs to provide me with inspiration, but inevitably whenever I started to feel like I couldn’t run another step Michaels song, “A Warrior’s Call” by Volbeat, randomly played on my iPod.  Every step, every mile, every minute, every hour I thought of Mikey.  I dedicate my finish to his loving memory.