Le ROOT: February 2020

Five days post marathon and I still have so many thoughts and feelings swirling through my head over the experience. The one at the forefront of my mind is that this wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to run another marathon.
After my last marathon, my autoimmune disease started spiraling out of control. I was diagnosed as a celiac over 13 years ago, but it wasn't until after my marathon that psychosomatic stress started triggering autoimmune reactions. Simply put, stress alone can set off symptoms. I spent the three months following that first marathon in agony. My body betrayed me. I looked six months pregnant for about 3 months and was in constant pain. When I finally went to a gastroenterologist, he told me that I should never run another marathon again. With a heavy heart, I let go of my idea of a sub 4 hour marathon. It took nearly 6 months for my body to fully heal and, by the time it had, I was already training for another half marathon. But even the "shorter" distance set off a series of reactions and again left me where the marathon had; I was severely bloated and in chronic pain. This time, I ditched the gastroenterologist - after he laughed in my face during an appointment - and began researching scholarly articles in the National Institute of Health online database. I even reached out to a friend working for the NIH in the immunology department. Everything that I found backed my suspicions - including what I had tried to talk to my gastroenterologist about. As I applied what I learned, I found that I could still run successfully.
And in walks Courtney. Just when I was ready to give running up for good, in walks Courtney. Previously a teacher at my kids' school, I met Courtney when my friend lost her daughter last May. It was such an unlikely friendship; we literally met in passing as our paths were about to go in their own separate ways. I had heard that she was just getting into running and a trivial comment of, "we should run together sometime" was made, but I don't even remember by whom. A couple of weeks later, she reached out through Facebook and invited me for a run with some of her gym friends. And she didn't even show up until the very end, when I had already completed 4 miles with a few of her friends - something we still joke about regularly. But that was all it took. One run. We started running together on weekends out near the Salt River. And then sometimes during the week, too. We joined her friends in the desert as they trained for Ragnar. And then suddenly I was part of the team myself. Courtney and I have hiked the highest peak in Arizona and have also survived the onslaught of zombies in an escape room with friends. We've developed a bond like nothing I've quite experienced before. We understand one another and can relate with one another in ways I can't even begin to express. And we elevate one another.
When I told Courtney months ago that I needed to run the Mesa Sprouts series one more time, Courtney was onboard. I didn't want to run a 10k after having completed half marathons and a full marathon; it felt too simple. So she offered to run a half with me knowing it would help me moderate my speed as she isn't quite as fast. So that was that, or so I thought. Courtney, ever eager to do that next big thing, asked if we could run a marathon. Hell no. I couldn't. I barely had it in me to do a half, not to mention the repercussions to my autoimmune disease. But when Courtney came up with the idea of running a marathon solo the week after the Mesa Sprouts, I stopped her dead in her tracks. I still remember vividly what it was like to undertake such a feat and I didn't want her to have such an experience. So I caved. I signed up to run another marathon. After Ragnar, we REALLY began training. And the more I ran and listened to my body and fueled properly, the better I did. I've had to completely remove dairy and soy from my diet in addition to gluten, but it has allowed me to manage my autoimmune disease while running long distances. I've honestly never felt so great. And we did it! We ran 26.2 miles better together than I ran 26.2 miles alone. Sure, this marathon was about an hour slower than my first. But I don't care. I don't care because I got to do something that I was told I could never do again. And I got that because of Courtney.
For the last five years, I have given 91.7 miles of myself to this race. And now I am done. With this race, that is. There is more for me out there. Other marathons and half marathons. Other Ragnars and 5ks. Courtney and I even have talks of an ultra in the works. All it takes is all we've got.