13.1 miles and 6,000 people. Justin's marathon weekend.

And that it was. A marathon weekend. We had a wonderful, full length wedding on Saturday with Stephanie and Lucas. Finished up around 11:30pm with their sparkler send off. Crashed. Woke at 5am on Sunday to meet the other 5,998ish people at the Pro Football Hall of Fame that were gathering for the race. I'd never seen anything like it. And I ran cross country in high school, I've seen runners, I've seen races. This, this was something else.
Thousands of people, every race, every age, every gender...all sporting their number badges on their chests like the emblem of their own superhero 'uniform'.
I wasn't running. Like I said, I ran cross country in high school. I don't like running now. I was happy just to be there. Breathing in the inspiration that all of these amazing people where exhaling. It honestly was a completely moving, lifting yet grounding experience.

Due to a lack of planning on my part, I was left at the start of the race without a vehicle or ride home. So I jogged the 1.5 mile course back home, in flip flops, and decided that everyone else was up and out that I should be too. I changed clothes and jumped on my bike. Out the door I went at 6:30am, through the side streets and neighborhoods of this town I call home. I've never seen such peace in this place. 6:30 in the morning can do amazing things, I've decided.

I rode from place to place, cheering on the runners. And waiting to see Justin run by smiling and giving me a peace sign. I'd hurry to the next location where I knew I could beat him and I'd wait for him to run by again. I felt like I was doing my share. He was out being awesome, running for a good cause and using his body to inspire the world, so I should too!

The finish line was like a bottleneck of molten, gushy awesome-sauce. Each person running up the little incline, the American flags slapping with the wind, and the crowd cheering them on like they could see into their mind and feel their struggle. I won't act like I didn't, I cried. Probably 3 or 4 times. Couples who clearly weren't trained marathon runners were finishing the half marathon and crossing the finish line holding hands. Elderly people, people running for a cause...each of them had a story.

In a weird way I felt right where I was supposed to be. You might think that I should have felt like I should be running next to Justin, holding his hand...but I didn't. I knew that I was where I was supposed to be when I saw him coming up around the corner. Still smiling. His green shirt we had bought the day before drenched in sweat and his red shoes clapping the concrete with growing intensity. He gave me another peace sign as he cut into a race ending sprint. And I cried again.

That's just how we work. I'm the support system, he does the grunt work. I stand by and watch with tears in my eyes as he makes decisions everyday that make me proud. He inspires and I document. We share the moments with smiles and peace signs and even though we don't run side by side all the time, we always cross the finish line holding hands.

At the finish!

Justin with his sister. She will kill me for this image below. :-)

The team photographer!

After the race!

At the start.