Jackie, looking ready to take on her second 26.2 in a six-week span.

This post is by Jackie Ayers, a BAMRbassador from Bend, Oregon, who occasionally contributes to our blog. On Saturday, November 16, Jackie ran the Richmond Marathon as part of Better Together.

Sitting in the brisk breeze listening to the Another Mother Runner live podcast taping at the Richmond Marathon Expo, one of the co-hosts quotes Bart Yasso saying, “Never take a finish line for granted.” Another zinger? Coach Jess, who adds adds, “Our worst day is someone else’s impossible.”

I am there preparing to run my second marathon within a six-week time span, and I am not confident in my ability to knock it out of the park. The post-race doldrums hit me hard after my excellent Portland, Oregon Marathon on October 6th, and I hadn’t kept up with my training. Knowing I wasn’t at my peak, I actively beat myself up mentally every step of the way as I traveled across the country to participate in marathon number two this fall.

Never take a finish line for granted, I repeat to myself while hyping up others while I sell shirts at the AMR expo booth. This was a blatant case of doctor, heal thyself. Since I’m not (yet?) able to time travel, I need to look forward and not back. I am saying all the right things out loud to others: this is my fun race, I don’t need to do anything but finish, I’m just going to enjoy the experience, etc.

However, in the back of my mind, I can’t stop my desire to pull off a near-impossible PR.

Race morning, as I line up with goosebumps on my arms due to the chill in the air, I have one last stern talk with myself. My ‘worst’ race is still an amazing achievement. It is still TWENTY SIX (point two) MILES. That distance was unfathomable to me five years ago. (I may have inspired some concerns in my race neighbors as I talked this over with myself.)

Jackie saw this sign twice, and the second time, the artist was thrilled Jackie asked to take a picture.

Before I can give myself one more affirmation, we are off and running. I start my watch, the pavement flies under my feet, and I remember that I’m 2,700 miles from home doing an amazing thing. Holy smokes. I look up and started reading the signs. I smile. I high-five the kids on the sidelines and desperately miss my 6- and 8-year-olds. I cry a little. I enjoy the GORGEOUS section of the route along a river. I line up for a porta-potty for way too long. I run; I walk; I may cry a little again.

She also stopped for a shot of pickle juice at mile 23.

The last few miles, I leap-frog with a woman who had a ‘first marathon’ sticker on her bib. She was starting to droop, and I could tell she was also struggling. I catch up to her and ask her name: Margaret.

She tells me that running a marathon is on her bucket list, and her mom’s name is Jackie!  I do what I do best; I hypd her up and tell her what a badass she is. I may also cry again (darn race emotions!). The end of the race is downhill to the finish line, so I tell her she picks the pace; I am with you to the end. If she wanted to pick it up, we’d sprint in together.

We do just that and cross the finish line feeling like a million bucks with the wind under our feet!

Hype-girl Jackie and first-time marathoner Margaret, smiling and not taking that well-deserved finish line for granted.

Never take a finish line for granted. The Richmond Marathon may have been nowhere near a PR, but I cross that finish line with someone who reminded me that what we do is not easy, and should always be celebrated.