Poem I wrote after my first marathon

Pictures I couldn't take
October 2005

There are pictures I couldn't take
with a regular camera
while I ran my marathon.
There was no camera available to capture
the moment at mile 22
when I read the sign that read,
"You are one step closer to calling yourslef a marathoner"
and I choked,
and swallowed hard, hoping to push the tears back,
and realized that I had done it!
Six months of training,
of running,
of dragging myself out of bed in the morning,
and here I was, almost to the finish line!
I had done it!
I had taken all the frusteration of my divorce,
the heartache of not feeling up to par as a mother,
the overwhelming feeling of drowning and desiring to escape my life,
and I had run with it as my motivation;
my desire to take it all
and run until it was all gone, so I could walk home
knowing that I was empty,
ready to be filled up wth good now.
I couldn't find my camera to take a picture
of my teammates, my friends, who were running with me
seeing me break into tears, put their arms around me,
mistaking my tears of pride for ones of pain.
strangers slowing down to reassure me
we would all finish this together, offering to emotionally pull me along
so we could finish what we'd started for so many different, yet
individually powerful, reasons.
Noboody was around to catch me
as I walked the finish grounds
in my foil blanket, calling those
who I had leaned on when my strength was non-existent,
to let them know that I had come to realize that I too was strong
and no longer needed them to hold me up
because I had just proven to myself
and my world
that I was bigger then anything that will ever come my way!
My heart screams, "I have just run 26.2 miles!
There is nothing I can't do!"
and, no matter how hard I try,
I haven't been able to take a picture og myself
glowing with pride as I look in the mirror.
The morning after my marathon, I attached a few new labels to
the girls I see looking back:
Strong,
Courageous,
Athlete.
There are images that I wish I could physically hold in my hands,
but they were never meant to be seen by the eyes.
They were meant to be etched into the mind,
seen by the heart
to be there to remind myself when I forget
that I am strong,
I am courageous,
I am a finisher
beacuse, simply put,
I am a marathoner.