Big Running Shoes

Monday, August 1

Leybato Guest House

Ashley and I have been doing a lot of things on our one week post-run-across-the-country holiday.  We’ve been lying on the beach. We’ve been swimming, believing that the Smiling Coast’s water can cure all. We’ve been practicing yoga on the beach. We’ve been spending as much time as possible with our guys Spider, Kebba, Pa Modou and Pa’s wife Agie. We’ve been crying every morning at breakfast.  We’ve been trying to hold onto as many Love4Gambia moments as possible.

In our moment-capturing, we’ve developed this list of “roles” that each of our invaluable team members played. When we began, we had titles like “runner, logistic man, driver, nurse” but very quickly realized that we were a team that would take care of each other together.  Titles and duties weren’t necessary.

Ashley Sharpe

• Be the nurse
• Take care of Erin, should she need taking care of
• Feed Erin
• Water Erin
• Mix the team’s Gatorade
• Be the manager
• Tell Erin what to do when Erin is no longer functioning at full capacity
• Put Erin to bed
• Sometimes wash Erin’s running gear (what a girl)
• Sunscreen Erin
• Lead team effort to make Erin eat more
• Push Erin out of the truck when she doesn’t want to run
• Run 100km across African country
• Run farther and longer than ever before
• Tape Erin
• Massage Erin’s quads
• Manage the boys
• Try to prevent the boys from harming themselves
• Threaten not to take care of boys should they harm themselves through stupidity and stubbornness
• Sing special Canadian songs while running
• Negotiate permission for Erin to have one single Julbrew on a school night
• Participate in many giggle-fests
• Possible contributor to Akon-conspiracy (?)
• Monitor pathway between Erin’s brain and mouth and intervene when necessary (understanding that running 25km a day makes one emotionally labile)
• Drive the NSGA truck through the bush after relearning a stick shift on an African dirt road
• Manage all of the money
• Manage our room key
• Yell at boys “no crying in the truck” when necessary
• Be an irreplaceable part of the team

Pa Modou Sarr

• Run 136km across The Gambia
• Run even when not feeling like it
• Be DJ extraordinaire for 424FM: All Akon All the Time
• Sing Akon when Akon is not playing
• Develop interrogation skills for upcoming film appearance as CIA Agent Momodou M. Sarr
• Entertain team with dramatic performance as President and continue performance much longer than a lesser skilled person could ever continue
• Tease the Fula
• Become brothers with the Fula
• Arrange media appearances, electricity or no electricity
• Hold Erin’s hand during media appearances
• Remain at the ready to assist falling runners: “Careful Ashley!”
• Take care of Ashley while Ashley is sick and Erin is running
• Become Ashley (for 1 day)
• Pack the truck
• Unpack the truck
• Secure location in which to unpack truck and put team to bed- sometimes requiring way more negotiation than reasonable (Soma)
• Drive the truck
• Operate the Flip camera, the Cannon camera, the Nissan Patrol stick shift, the gas pedal and possibly 1 of his 2 cell phones simultaneously (what a man)
• Teach Ashley to drive the truck (while recording driving lesson, thanks Pa-parazzi!)
• Listen to Erin’s stories and answer her questions
• Keep Erin company by keeping in-step with Cliff Matthews’ track warm up drills
• Celebrate each 20km and 5km accomplishment
• Remain the push-up king (sorry, Ashley)
• Beat Spider’s kilometer total
• Practice yoga on demand- Namaste!
• Yell “morfing” at kids who incessantly yell “toubab” at Erin and Ashley
• Surprise team with full cooked breakfast on rest day
• Cheerfully allow Erin and Ashley to talk with wife Agie every day
• Entertain Erin with football stories while running across country
• Share marriage stories (go Team Marriage!)
• Make Erin feel better when she’s ill (preferred method- decorating Erin’s “presidential convoy” truck)
• Pull Erin onto the road on mornings when she doesn’t want to run
• Make the breakfast tapalapa sandwiches for the team while singing Akon in the front seat
• Read the team our daily messages from Aunty Debby
• Get Erin enough food and water
• Locate appropriate trees for rest
• Hold the team together with easy, caring nature
• Be an irreplaceable part of the team

Kebba Suso

• Be the King: EGWEEEE!
• Run A LOT of kilometers next to Erin
• Fill in all empty running shifts following team decision about Erin not running alone
• Sing to Erin when running is hard (in English or Mandinka)
• Listen to Erin’s stories
• Answer Erin’s questions (sometimes with strategically shortest answer possible: ‘poverty’)
• Be the Dalai Lama when Erin needs some extra spirit
• Provide Erin’s anthropology lessons while running
• Lead kids in singing
• Lead mamas in singing
• Mislead crowds who are gathered for the president and instead receive a running white girl and a running Gambian
• Make Erin feel better when ill (preferred method- decorating Erin’s “presidential convoy” truck)
• Pack the truck
• Unpack the truck
• Secure location to unpack truck and put team to bed
• Drive the truck.  But frequently threaten to abandon the truck if driving the truck interferes with running quota.
• Force Ashley to drive
• Get our morning tapalapa (bread)
• Cut the mangos
• Be Ashley’s brother.  Evidence of brotherhood- much playful quarreling
• Grow gorgeous, brave and generous sons and nephews to share the running work on a day when the team was down
• Share sisters Bintou and Fatou with the team (we love you, sisters!)
• Possible contributor to Akon conspiracy (?)
• Practice yoga- Namaste!
• Use smile to light up the truck
• Use laugh to light up the truck
• Get Erin enough food and water
• Locate appropriate trees for rest
• Exhibit patience during Fula-Serere battles
• Pay 80Dalasi in fines for saying “I’m hot”
• Locate and bring Ashley to the bootlegger on Erin’s birthday
• Occasionally impress team by eating more rice than Pa Modou
• Celebrate each 20km and 5km accomplishment
• Be an irreplaceable part of the team

Dodou Bah/Spiderman

• Infuse team with energy and enthusiasm on Day 12
• Be the lead running vocalist
• Be the lead running dancer
• Be the lead running army chanter
• Banter with the Serere
• Become brothers with the Serere
• Dance with Ashley
• Keep mood happy at all cost
• Guard Erin while running through insane traffic in Serrekunda
• Lead swimming lessons for Pa Modou and the Suso kids in Bwiam
• Engage in high stake kilometer competition with Pa Modou
• Fit into the team like the 5^th finger of a glove
• Catch up on more than 2 weeks’ worth of team jokes
• Playfully follow Pa Modou’s orders like a good sport
• Lead opposition party in Pa Modou for President
• Be the ‘Bachelor’s Team’ with Ashley
• Happily do warm-up drills with Erin and Pa Modou on days where legs are slow to warm up to running 20km
• Celebrate each 20km and 5km accomplishment
• Become the 5^th glue that holds the team together.  Dodou Bah: “Together we stand; united we fall; Black and White unite; together as one.”
• Talk Erin and Ashley through their return to Canada: “the body will return home but soul will live on in The Gambia”

Erin Poirier

• Run
• Coach team
• Help team take care of each other
• Do what Ashley says

 

Together

Sunday, August 1, 2011, 1030am

Leybato Guest House, Fajara Beach

Ashley and I have been relaxing on the beach and we’ve been processing the incredible experience that we’ve just had together with Pa Modou Sarr, Kebba Suso and Spiderman Dodou Bah.

In “Running the Sahara,” Charlie insightfully states, ‘this experience was so big that I can’t fit it into my head.’ We relate to that.

Ashley and I have been keeping a list of what we’ve run through, what we’ve been through… for our own memory bank as we try to fit experience into our heads.

We are so lucky that we ran through pretty much everything that West Africa had to offer.  You’ll see just how lucky we were, as follows.

We ran through:

• A wedding
• A funeral
• A naming ceremony (remember all Muslim events, we are in a Muslim country)
• Refugee processing near the Casamance (Senegal) conflict
• 3 presidential convoys
  • 1 presidential convoy causing a monster traffic jam in Serrekunda requiring us to run through heart and centre of said traffic jam
  • 1 presidential convoy in Soma that caused a stampede exactly where we were standing in which a young girl got trampled.  Our guys, Kebba and Pa Modou, turned into American football players instantly, bear hugging and protecting us in a huddle.
  • Dirt road
  • Paved road
  • Partially paved road
  • Side of road
  • Road with monkeys
  • Road with bushrats
  • Road with snakes at pee stops
  • No roads with nile monitor lizards, thank God
  • Rain
  • Never enough rain
  • Sun (34-35 degrees)
  • Hotter sun (37-38 degrees)
  • Hottest sun (42 degrees)
  • Humidity- worse than hottest sun
  • Humidity and sun so hot that on the last day in Banjul, as I stood motionless next to our truck as we waited to begin, I felt cold. It was 29 degrees.  The weather was “cool” for The Gambia. In that moment, I knew that my brain’s temperature recognition was thoroughly messed up.
  • 2 pairs of melted sneakers

We ran through more than these “things:” events, roads, animals and weather.

(Dad, you may not want to continue reading this list.  Disclaimer- it’s just as safe here as anywhere else in the world.  All cities have crime pockets.  And we had a team of very protective men with us.  Ashley once said that she was scared of a guy with a stick, thinking he might like to hit her with the stick. The man was mentally ill.  If the man hit her with the stick, peaceful Kebba said very simply, “Well then I would tear him apart.”)

We ran through rice fields, ground nut fields and couscous fields.

We ran and drove through long hours together where my team’s bond and friendship turned into family. If you want to really get to know an African country and 3 African men, there’s no better way to become close with the country and its people than to run across it with them. West African societies, especially tribal relationships, are incredibly complex. I now have a wealth of knowledge stored away from conversations that our feet carried us through.

We ran more kilometers as a team than I did alone. Days 8 through 14, I didn’t run a single step solo. On Day 15, I ran 9 km solo (7 by request) and those were my last solo kms.

We enjoyed hours of laughing together.

Ashley and I sometimes giggled late at night until we cried.

We enjoyed hours of a dramatic production where Pa Modou was president and we were the people, engaged in an election campaign.  When there’s no television, internet, stereo… you entertain yourself in other ways.

We entertained ourselves with a rotating “boss:” the team member who (besides me) ran the most kilometers that day.  We laughed hysterically as the boss tried to wield their power until it expired at midnight.

We enjoyed hours of Serere vs Fula jokes until I had one hour too many and started running between Pa Modou and Spider hoping they would finally stop.  They stopped while running, continued the rest of the hours of the day.

We ran through the brief illnesses of 3 of our team members and learned that when one team member is down, we are all down.

We ran with 3 amazing groups who joined us: children, mamas in rice fields and soldiers on convoy. We loved them all equally.  While the soldiers in the Gambia National Army and the National Guard didn’t run any steps with us, they began to recognize us and would salute me from their convoy (sometimes up to 6 trucks and over 100 soldiers). I would salute them back.

We ran so long on the same road that the bush taxi drivers began to recognize us and would give us a happy beep and wave instead of an irritated “get the heck outta my way” beep and wave.

We went through a few mornings where I didn’t want to get out of the truck and run.  On these mornings Kebba always felt my fatigue and would say, “Oh, Erin.  I hate to let you out of the truck.”  Ashley would push me out and Pa would drag me onto the road.  Once pink sneakers are on the road, fatigue would be replaced with happiness.  My team just had to get the pink sneakers onto the road.

We rested for 2 hours under 15 different trees along the South Bank Road and led way more than 15 curious youth through yoga practice.

We ran through the mysterious disappearance of Akon for 3 days.

We stayed in places where our dinner was killed before us. Although in Ndemban, the 10 year-old boy entrusted with killing the rooster with a dull butter knife only managed to mortally wound the rooster and Spider had to step in to relieve the boy of this duties and finish the job.

Ashley and I peed and changed clothes in many hidden spots in the forest together. Sometimes we were only hidden from the truck and that was perfectly acceptable. Sometimes we just changed next to the truck “hidden” by my camping towel.

We ran through forests renowned for armed robbery, although the last incidence was more than one year ago. Though such is the reputation that locals remain weary and police checks are more numerous.

We celebrated each overhead shower and each room with more than one electrical outlet.

We endured a robbery at our lodge in Janjanbureh where the thief knocked off the screen on our window and possibly entered our room.  We’re not sure; the runner was dead asleep and Ashley just rolled over in bed without noticing. We heard that he was a very unskilled thief who only made away with one wallet from a guy in another bank of rooms. We did get a lot of mileage out of this thief as he was named as a suspect in the disappearance of Akon.

We knew that we had been running and living “in the bush” a long time when we were in Ndemban, staying at a local compound next to the road leading to Senegal and site of the Casamance civil conflict. Kebba told us: “We are 3km from Casamance so if you hear gunfire overnight, don’t worry, it’s just coming from the rebels across the border.”  And we easily replied, “Yea, whatever. Is there an electrical outlet here so we can charge the Garmin?” Then Ashley and I didn’t even think to talk about this conversation for another 4 days.

We ran so long that Stephen Harper was starting to look good.

I ran so long and got called “toubab” (Mandinka word for white person) so many times that I started following Pa Modou’s lead and began calling “morfing” (Mandinka word for black person) back.

We ran so long together that I felt like we could run to the end of the world together.

When Kebba drove us back to Leybato Guest House after our victorious swim in the Atlantic Ocean, we sat in the driveway next to each other in the front seat.  We were both silent for about a full minute.  I finally looked at him and said, “Kebba, I don’t want to get out of the truck because when I get out, it feels like it’ll be over.”  Kebba nodded his head slowly.  After a few moments, he looked at me and said, “Our team will never end.”  Then we were brave enough to get out the truck.

My team’s goal was accomplished but after what we’ve travelled, experienced, endured, been through, supported each other through, run through together… being a team will never end.

||

BANJUL

On Tuesday, July 26, around 1030am, I ran into the Altantic Ocean after running 424km across The Gambia.  I ran made it to the ocean because I always believed that I could.  And because I had my team: Ashley Sharpe, Pa Modou Sarr, Kebba Suso and Spider (Dodou Bah), with me and behind me every step of the way.

WE DID IT!!!

I wrote this with pen and paper in my journal on Tuesday, July 26 and am just posting now.

———————–

Our 13.5km run today was everything it should have been. It was easy. I loved every step. I loved my team’s love for each other- camaraderie that had turned into brotherhood and sisterhood over 400km. We easily kept step with each other. I felt like we could run to the end of the world together.

Today was all about the team: starting and finishing together.  For the first time, all 5 of us could run together because Boss Jarju was driving the truck. On the previous 16 days, someone always had to drive to the truck.

Yesterday, day 16, I ran 24km straight in 2:09:xx so at 5:24/km pace.  I was running “fast” (for Gambia) because it was dangerous and I needed to reach the traffic light in Westfield as quickly as humanly possible.  Today, I had to get my team to the ocean together. I made sure we ran at 6:00/km. Ashley had never run more than 11km in her life. Although he didn’t seem worried about it, I was worried about Pa Modou showing up at football camp next week. One coach doesn’t wish to displease another. So we clocked 6:00/kms.

We were joined today by 16 year old Muhammed- Spider’s neighbor. He was a terrific little runner and having a youth with me on our last day made me happy.  He represented all the kids I was running for.

Spider was in his best form ever with plenty of singing and chanting and dancing.  Many of his songs require him to run ahead and do a traditional Fula dance.  It was perfection.  I wanted to hold onto each precious kilometer and couldn’t believe how fast they were slipping by me.

We saw the Atlantic Ocean at km 6 as we crossed the Denton Bridge, leading onto the island of Banjul. We stopped for a family photo.

Just after the bridge, 3 NSGA staff members- Muhammed B, Adama and Haddy hopped out of a car and joined us. Ashley and I were so thrilled for our women and we both grabbed one of Haddy’s hands.  Pa had Adama’s hand. We ran.

Then we were getting so close.

A huge, golden, gleaming concrete arch presents the city of Banjul to the South Bank Road and to enter the city, you must pass under this famous arch. Spider, running on the left-most side of the road, began yelling in sweet Gambian dialect:

“I am seeing the arch!!! I AM SEEING THE ARCH!!!”

I looked ahead and I couldn’t see anything but forest.  Spider is very tall.

And the Arch appeared before me.

Impossibly beautiful.

I started crying.

“We did it. We did it. We did it,” ran through my head, my tear-blurred vision.

Ashley was next to me and said “no crying until the finish line!” Although no one else noticed, it was too late.

I don’t know if anyone other than the 5 of us will ever understand what it felt like to see the arch to the city of Banjul after 420km.  I always knew that I could get there, but in that moment, I felt something close to disbelief.  Like Oh My God, it’s finally and actually true.

It took about 500m to run to the Arch. I ran to one of the gorgeous, welcoming columns and threw my arms around it and my team threw their arms around both me and the column.

I started crying again, publically this time. Ashley, Pa, Kebba and Spider were hugging me.  We were yelling. We were celebrating.

We had made it.

We ran all the way to Banjul.

More hugs, more joyful tears (not only by me), more spraying water, more celebrating.

And then we had our delicious reward.  Our gold medal. What we had been waiting for since Koina, 422km ago.  What I had been waiting for, training for, dreaming about for 7 months.  The Atlantic Ocean.  It was about 2km from the Arch.

We began to run again.  When we reached “July 22 Square” in the heart of Banjul, we politely asked Muhammed and our NSGA staffers to let the team: Ashley, Pa, Kebba, Spider and I run the last 1500m alone.

Side by side, we ran.

We sang a special team song to each other as we wound through the stalls of the Banjul Market.

Then the market stalls parted and the Atlantic Ocean was in front of us.

We stood on the sand, just where the market ended and the beach began. We took off our shoes. We held hands, looked up at the sky and I yelled “1, 2, 3” and we ran across the beach into the Atlantic Ocean, holding hands.

We started together and we finished together.

The English Dictionary doesn’t have enough words to describe how my tears of joy felt in the ocean. Or just how sweet our celebration was.

||

Nimbarra

Day 15 + 16

“Nimbarra” means “hard work” in Mandinka.

Day 15, Sunday, July 24. 30km run.

As Ashely wrote, Day 15 was a really big challenge for me. Several factors came together to make this so. My sneakers melted at km 17. More funny than challenging. We didn’t have enough food and I was hungry.  We were in place that food was hard to get. I was cranky. Then my breasts chafed really badly. My sports bra and running tanks rubbed the skin right off, leaving several wounds.

When we started run #2 of the day, we were supposed to hit Brikama at 6km so the run would be one kilometer longer than our usual 25km. I was hurting and I knew that I would need to focus on running and not give in to hurting. If I could just focus enough, I could get the pain under my sports bra to go away. I couldn’t do this while running with one of my guys.  If they were next to me, I knew that I would break down and become really emotional.  So I put Ashley in the truck at 3km and told the guys that I needed them to help me by letting me run alone for the next 3km to Brikama.

They agreed- eager to help me. But then Kebba told me that Brikama might not be at km 6.  Where is it!? I demanded.  I was hovering really close to pain threshold and also to snapping emotionally.  I had been yelling at kids.  This is not like me. “Maybe one or 2 km more.”

So I take off in somewhat stony/stoic silence.  I could focus alone and I could numb myself to the pain in my chafed areas. I’ve run lots of late miles in lots of races, it was just like this. I was just running.

I stopped at the truck at 7km.  We weren’t in Brikama. “Maybe one or two more km,” says Kebba, apologetically. My smile was gone. Brikama was lost. Kebba and Pa wanted me stop but there was no way I was stopping until we got to Brikama.  I had to get there.  The team had to get there.  Our police escort was going to pick us up in Brikama on Day 16 and the police escort was very necessary in the heavy traffic of urban Serrekunda.

I started running one or two kilometers more. I was angry. So angry at the kilometer markers that led to the middle of nowhere. I was hungry. I knew there was pain under my resolve and I was worried that I was creating pain in my legs that would make me suffer the next day. At my lowest moment, a truck full of soldiers drove by.  Along with the kids and the mamas, I love the soldiers.  They travel on open flat-bed trucks. I salute them. They salute me back.  I made it to 9km.

I did not make it to Brikama by 9km.  “How much further?” I ask, wearily.  “Less than a kilometer,” says Kebba.  “Are you sure? Positive?” I demand.  “Well, maybe 990m,” he says.  Poor Kebba.  I had turned into Charlie from “Running the Sahara” but felt like Kevin from the film when he says that he can’t go on running aimlessly to Libya. Kebba doesn’t have a map in his head. He was doing his best.

During that last stretch, I was thinking of my coach Cliff watching me run 150s at the track.  It was comforting so I ran 150s over and over. It wasn’t necessarily the running that was difficult, the kilometers were disappearing, but during these extra kilometers, everything was difficult.

Brikama was 900m from km 9, rounding out the day’s total at nearly 30km. When I reached Brikama, I grabbed my water from Pa and said that I needed to walk and to meet me up the road in about 5 minutes.  When I walked away from the truck, I was crying. I don’t run and cry in real life but I just didn’t know what else to do with myself.  I was so emotionally overwhelmed.  I felt bad for the team because I wouldn’t let them run with me.  I felt bad that I wasn’t my usual smiling self.  But I knew that I wouldn’t have been able to push beyond the pain of my chafed skin without being alone.

I pulled myself together by the time the truck came to get me.  I had to pull myself together because I knew that the guys wouldn’t be able to handle their runner crying.

We clocked the kilometers to the finish line at the ocean after the run and about 25 minutes into our drive, I was steady and ready to talk to the team:

“Pa?” I said. “Thank you for helping me today.”

“Spider. Thank you for helping me today”

“Kebba. Thank you for helping me today”

“Ashley. Thank you for helping me today.”

Day 16. Monday, July 25. 24km run. 410km total. 13.5 to go.

We are at Banjul’s doorsteps.  We stopped our run today at the Westfield junction. It was a really… big challenge getting there.

I was really nervous about today because it involved running through urban, throbbing, bustling, busy Serrekunda.  I wrote on Facebook this morning that in The Gambia, this would be like the equivalent of running through Manhattan.

I needed some extra courage this morning so I opened up my precious package of daily notes and photos from my girl Gina.  Today’s photo was of all of my best girls running down Leeds Street in our wedding gowns at our Royal Wedding Party.  Gina’s note said to think about my girlfriends running with me today, just behind me.  I got teary.  I told Ashley that I had accepted that the next 2 days would be an emotional rollercoaster.

We got in the truck to drive to our start point in Brikama.  I was nervous and not feeling very strong and clutching the photo of my girls in my hand. I told my team that I was nervous and they told me that they would take care of me.  They told me to try not to let the traffic get to me.  I trust my team so absolutely and I knew that they wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me. We started running.  Walliduff Jarr, our Gambia Police escort on the motorcycle in front.  Spider, me and Kebba behind.  My men, flanking me.  And Ashley and Pa in the truck behind me.  I had a protective cocoon.

I was thinking of my Aunt Debby’s advice to “Do you best and the forget the rest.”  Today, “the rest” was the long line of unhappy traffic we were creating behind us.  I did my best to forget about them.

At our 20 minute water stop, a little boy named Molamin joined us.  He listened to Kebba explain Love4Gambia to a young man.  Kebba said, “We are running for the youth of this country.” When we began to run, he was next to us.  Molamin was 12 years old and from Brikama.  He ran the next 9km with us in his plastic sandals.

Molamin was incredibly helpful for me.  Obviously my legs are tired and while I’m not injured, of course I am hurting.  I have used mantras during many races- a short sentence repeated over and over again.  It helps me push the sensory data from my legs out of my head.  I concentrate only on the words.  I was watching Molamin run and saying to myself, “Run for him. Run for him.”  I hurt everywhere and nowhere all at once. We got to 12km relavitely easily.  The transfer trucks hauling logs from Casamance were terrifying and I was scared that cars were going to knock over the police motorcycle several times.

Team switched up at 12km.  Kebba in the truck. Pa out of the truck. Kebba also have Molamin taxi money to get home.  When we started running again, I realized that my second pair of shoes in so many days had melted.  All of a sudden, my left foot dropped and felt flat on the ground.  It was like wearing 2 different pairs of shoes. At km 14 of the day, we hit 400km.  Erin with 2 pairs of shoes melted.

We stopped at the truck and Ashley asked me if the same foot melted each day.  When I said they were different feet, she told me to put the good shoe from yesterday on.  I started to tell her that different pairs of shoes have different wear patterns and you can’t mix them up…. And then I stopped myself.  My shoes have just melted!  Wear pattern is no longer a concern!  Now this isn’t a reflection of my shoe sponsor at all.  My shoes have been very, very good to me.  I don’t think that any brand of shoe would stand up to running 400km across a hot African country.

At km 16, our run became really challenging due to factors beyond our control.  We had been running easily from km 10-16 through traffic because the road was a double-lane divided highway with a median.  We blocked one lane, leaving the second lane for moving cars.  Then news came that the President of The Gambia was going to be leaving the city and they shut down one entire side of the highway.  Now traffic in the busiest urban core was using only 2 lanes, one travelling in each direction.  Exactly where we were about to run.

I saw the traffic jam up ahead and dread washed over me. The “highway” is narrow and there was very little space between oncoming traffic and the traffic in our direction and the flow was moving very slowly.  The very tight space between the 2 lines of traffic, in the centre of the road, was where we ran.

For the next 6km, the police bike drove through the traffic and Spider, Kebba and I followed. We had to run single file: Spider, then me, then Kebba taking up the rear.  Car swerved, sometimes in front of us.  The guys were yelling at cars.  I was yelling at cars. I slapped about 10 cars when they tried to move in front me as soon as the police motorcycle passed.  Pa and Ashley and the support truck lost us several times because they couldn’t follow through the tight traffic.  If I had any sense, I would have been scared.  Instead, I was just mad and that emotion is much easier to run with.

We had to run the last 6km non-stop because there was nowhere to stop for water in the traffic deadlock.  I embraced the traffic light at the Westfield Junction and Spider and Kebba embraced me.  The team survived.

If my blog reads to you like a journal, that’s because it is.  I am keeping this for myself and for my friends and family.  If you are outside of my friends/family circle, I sincerely thank you for taking the time to follow my team as we run through this incredible experience.  Please let me remind you why I’m running.  I’m not running for glory or accomplishment, I’m running to keep kids alive in a country that I love dearly.

If you’ve been following Team Love4Gambia, you’ve gotten to know Pa Modou Sarr and Kebba Suso.  My team.  These 2 remarkable men are staff of the Nova Scotia-Gambia Association.  They are the ones that go out into the field and run the projects that keep kids alive in The Gambia.  Pa and Kebba do the malaria prevention.  They do the HIV prevention.  Using cinema, they educate communities about Child Rights Protection so that no one will exploit kids like Molamin and his sister.

I am running to raise funds so that Pa and Kebba can continue to do this life-saving work with the NSGA in The Gambia.  If you’ve gotten something out of my blog, if you keep coming back and if you haven’t supported Love4Gambia already, please consider donating.  Donate Now! is an easy button to click on the homepage.

We finish this unforgettable journey tomorrow when we jump into the Atlantic Ocean as a team.  If you want to celebrate, please donate.

Namaste.

Erin

This is Why You Need a Girl on Your Side

Post by Ashley:

July 24, 2011 Run Day 15

1:23PM- I’m here in the truck while Erin is running solo and stretching out her run to reach Brikama today. According to the kilometer markers, we should have been there in one extra kilometer from where we planned to end- so like at 26km for the day. However, it seems as though it is further than that. Maybe because those kilometer markers are about as accurate as time is in many places outside the Western World. The kilometer markers just ended in the middle of nowhere, not in Brikama. Not helpful to runners.

Erin has taught me a lot about running. She told me on our way here that running is much more mental than physical. I know that so far she has been very strong mentally. She has not let the heat or the numerous complications of travelling across the country bother her. Our mantra has been “Eat, Sleep, Run” We drug her to sleep, we feed her and she runs. Now today, the support team has not done the best job of feeding our running superstar. Now, I don’t know how many of you reading this have ever worked a twelve hour shift with me, but if you know me, you know that I personally do not function while hungry. Not nicely anyway. Can you say Dragon Lady? So I would imagine that when you burn a bijillion calories per day like Erin, you get crazy hungry. Like I’ll kill you if you get in my way kind of hungry.  Erin is starting off hungry in this second 5km (or maybe 10km?) run.  Since we were not in a place where food was easily accessible, and we had not prepared for this so Erin had no choice but to run hungry.

We decided I would start running with her, no boys. Sometimes you just need your girls, or in this case, girl. To top off her hungry mindset, we start running and a boy yells, “Toubab, give me a biscuit!” Oh if Erin only HAD a biscuit…  She to my surprise yells back, “You give ME a biscuit!” LOL- even Erin loses her patience when hungry!

Not too far into our run, Erin was grasping her chest. Now usually in my ER nurse mind I think- CARDIAC! In Erin’s case, I knew it was boobs. Yup, sorry Erin, I think the people need to know about your boob situation. There is heat rash on them. There is chafing on them. At this point in our run, the pain was just unbearable for Erin. So we stopped for Old Faithful- VASELINE. We continued running. The Vaseline was not cutting it. So we placed Erin in a dirty running shirt that might hold her chest better and cause less agony. This was all before Erin knew that 5km would not take her into Brikama.

Erin ordered me to the truck at 2.9km into the second run. I agreed because 1) I knew that she knew I was strong enough to run with her further if she needed me to and 2) You never argue with Coach Erin and 3) I knew that mentally she needed to have this time to herself to think. Since her birthday, she has not had that time running alone to collect her thoughts, daydream, or let herself be in silence to ponder what she has achieved and what it means to every smiling face she has met along this crazy journey. Today she mentally needs this time to run in solitude. Today she mentally needs to make it to Brikama. And she will, no matter how much further than the kilometer markers said it was. And if she hurts like hell she knows I will rub her legs later.

When Erin first asked me to accompany her on this adventure, I was a bit surprised. Prior to our first trip to The Gambia, we had been complete strangers. We did not spend the a huge amount of time with each other while there, but certainly by the end of our trip to Dakar at the end we knew each other well. When you travel with someone in quarters as close as these, there is always a risk that you will be severely annoyed with each other by the time it is over. This risk is amplified when it is a full month of travelling in non-luxury settings. We have slept together, eaten off the same plate, have used the same towel, have giggled until we cried (or sprained a laughing muscle), and squatted to pee side by side. If that doesn’t make you close, I don’t know what will. That is how today I knew she needed that space to be alone. So I kept the boys off the road and stopped them when they tried to make her stop running at 5km because that’s what she needed. When she finished her recovery (ahem) 10km run we were in Brikama.

7:00PM – We are now waiting for our dinner at Leybato Hotel and all is now right in the world. Erin is back to her smiling self after having an extra large omelet sandwich, a shower and discovering that our room at Leybato is even nicer than our first room here and has MULTIPLE outlets (and electricity) for our numerous devices that require charging.

Banjul is calling very loudly now. The total kilometers will be 424km, which is pretty close to our estimate of 430km. Erin ran 30km today bringing us to 386km. Tomorrow she will run 24km nonstop (no place to rest in busy Serekunda!). On our final day, she will complete 13.5km to July 22^nd Square, and to the OCEAN in Banjul. Yay!

Here’s a nice cold Julbrew to good friends and big accomplishments! Cheers!

At the River: Last Rest Day

Rest Day #3 of 3

Bwiam, Friday, July 22, 6:30pm

Beautiful, beautiful rest day. We spent it in the best possible way. I got out of bed just before 10am. I called my husband and spoke with him until my D100 ($4 CND) ran out. We ate brunch, prepared by Kebba’s sister Bintou. And then we went swimming!

The Bwiam River, an off-shoot of the Gambian River, is salt water so safe to swim in. We piled into the truck with Kebba’s sons and nephews and headed to the dock. I can’t describe to you how blissfully amazing it felt to jump off the dock, into the water, after running several days with temps hitting 42 degrees. Mind you, the water wasn’t overly cool. It was more like bath water but it felt so refreshing and wonderful. The kids weren’t super swimmers but Spider is a lifeguard and we were in good hands for some fun. Floating, diving, relaxing. We spend most of the afternoon lounging on the dock- the perfect place to spend the hottest hours of the day.

I just tried to nap but as usual, I can’t. My legs and feet have been running 25km a day very comfortably but they are far from comfortable the rest of the day. No surprise here. When we get off the road from our day’s run, the first thing we do is eat a decent size meal. The meal consists of whatever is put in front of us- usually meat and rice with sauce. After that I shower and then I badly want to be unconscious on the bed. But I’m always too much of something: too sore in the legs, too hot or too hungry.
I’m most sore in quads and hip flexors and am also pretty sore in biceps/triceps from being in runner’s stride all day. I had been sleeping with one leg hanging off the edge of the bed. Less leg on the bed means less surface area to heat up the stupidly hot foam mattress. I can’t do that anymore because my hip flexors can’t stand it. There is no comfortable position to put my legs in after my 25km run and my legs exact their revenge on their owner by preventing sleep.

If I’m lucky enough to have a wave of naproxen-induced comfort wash over me, it’s often too hot to nap. 2-3pm is the hottest time of the day, exactly when we are trying to nap. If it’s 42 degrees outside, Kebba agrees that it is likely 45 degrees inside our room. Electricity doesn’t come on until the sun goes down so that means no fan.

It’s a good day if I can grab 10-15 minutes of nap per attempt. Then my stomach will wake me up. Despite having eaten a Gambian-size portion of meat and rice, I wake up ravenous and have to get out of bed to get our snack stash. Cookies, chocolate bars, bananas and pineapple juice tide me over until our evening meal. My Garmin reminds me daily that I burning around 1600 cal over 25km. I am monstrously hungry.

The non-running portion of our Love4Gambia experience has been incredibly enjoyable. I love being around Ashley, Kebba, Pa and now Spider. Good job we are such a tight group, we have been together most waking hours for more than 2 weeks now 

Our team of 4 didn’t realize how much we needed Spider (real name Dodou Bah) until he arrived on the evening of Day 11, ready to run on Day 12. When he started dancing, singing, laughing and running circles around us, it became clear that we had been getting a little bit tired. Spider brought us an infusion of energy and jokes and laughs and we love him for it. Spider and Pa’s tribes, the Fula (Spider) and the Serer (Pa) have what they call a “joking relationship” and they’ve been at each other with tribe jokes for 3 days now. It’s great entertainment. Like a long string of blonde and newfie jokes.

Although with 3 guys and 2 girls, the balance has tipped! Ashley and I are now outnumbered and are the target of most non-tribe jokes  I love these guys. And with love, I must concur with Ashley- there is now a lot of testosterone out here! Along with talk usually reserved for the male gender we get: who can run farther; who will run the most; Pa will run more than Spider; who does the nurse love the most; who does the runner love the most… and on! We are both looking forward to spending at least 4 hours uninterrupted with only our girlfriends when we get home!

That’s all for today. Banjul is calling loudly. We’ve reached kilometer markers for Brikama, which is about 30km from the finish line in Banjul. The last kilometer marker we passed was 51km to Brikama so about 80km to go!

“Country Strong”

Jakhaly, 5:30pm

Day 7 of running. 31km today. 181km total “YES WE CAN!”

I’ve been listening to the song “Country Strong” because the lyrics sound like my Love4Gambia run and help me stay strong.

Today is my birthday and I ran 31km to celebrate my age. Day 5 was a hard day for my body.  Today was the hardest day for my head.

We’ve arrived at sporadic kilometer markers along the side of the road, announcing how many kilometers until Banjul.  Today’s markers started around 280km.  I was looking at these markers today and they were filling me with waves of anxiety about how far it is. I’ve been trying to focus on 20 minutes at a time. It’s hard to do that with these signs in my face.

Ashley ran the first 5km with me and then I ran solo until km 10 when Kebba joined me for km 10 through 25 of run #1. I was telling Kebba about a birthday message that I received from my mother that morning. Kebba, aka Dalai Lama, started talking about my parents and family and husband and how they would be thinking of me all day long on this special day.  At that moment, I felt so acutely far away from my family. No one wants to feel lonely on their birthday. Running 31km started feeling like a lot of work and a bad idea.

I was pretty quiet at the next rest stop at the truck.  I was trying to hide my mood- unsuccessfully. At the next stop 20 minutes later, I said that I wasn’t happy or sad, I was just running.  Ashley told Kebba to stop talking and to start singing while running.  I felt a little better.

We were running long hills and I started to tell Kebba about doing hill training or hills in long runs and how you pretend to tie a rope around the guy in front of you and imagine that he is pulling you up the hill.    We stopped a moment later so I could take a photo of a road sign.  I looked over at Kebba and saw that a spider had been busy at work between the 2 of us running side to side.  A web stretched from my head to Kebba’s head.  This seemed pretty fitting given my rope conversation.  I was back on my mental game from that point on.

I thought a lot of all the people home who are running 25 minutes a day in solidarity with me.  I could feel them behind me today, almost as if I could turn around and see them all trailing behind me.  Thank you to all of you.  And special thanks to Gina who has recruited strangers, people I don’t even know, to run/walk in support of Love4Gambia.

Out here on the road the Banjul, emotions seem more acute. Happy feels happier.  Sad feels sadder.

As we encountered more people today wondering what the heck we are doing, I was thinking about “how” we are doing it.  How: I believe we can.  I coach young runners and tell them “the only person who can tell you that you can’t is yourself.”  I want my young runners to believe in themselves like I believe in.  Love4Gambia run- I just believe YES WE CAN.

Facts:

Left toe blister looks bad. Has been beaten into submission in my asics speedstars and doesn’t hurt while running. When I bump it on furniture, I let an f-bomb out.

Right foot is behaving

Adductors are running comfortably

My quads and the top of my right tibia, under kneecap, were tired today at the end of 31km.  What else can you expect rounding out 181km in the last 7 days?

Gut is being a champ.

We saw baboons on the road today- very cool

The same bush taxi drivers are now driving passed us over and over again and they now approach me with a happy honk and wave

A guy came running after us today, saying he saw us in Bansang (Day 4)

I love to salute the soldiers at military checkpoints

Ashley and I just had a conversation that sums up our accommodations nicely.  We are staying in a 5 room residence at Jakhaly Health Centre right now- in 20 year old Fatou’s room.  We are moving to the guesthouse.  Ashley just returned from looking at it.  My series of questions:

Is there a toilet seat? Yes

Are there 2 rooms? Yes, there are 4 but our team can only use 2

Shower? Yes

What kind? Overhead, not handheld!

2 beds or 1? 2

Mosquito nets? Yes

Electrical outlet? Yes

Mirror? Don’t know

Fan? Yes!

Overhead or stand? Stand.

We’ll take it!

“Stand By Me”

July 13, 2011

Day 6 of running. 150km done!

Jakhaly, 9:30pm

Ashley and I have started singing while running. She had “Stand by Me” on her ipod and we’ve changed to words to “Run with Me” and we sing this at the 1km mark of the second 5km run.

I took 6 days of running for me to turn my team into distance runners! I ran 25km today and not a single step alone. Pa ran the first 10km with me. The first run is the most coveted among the team and there is a lot of jostling that happens to decide who gets to run it. Pa was the winner today. Ashley joined from 9km through 14km. Kebba was getting really antsy in the truck, wanting to run. I joked at 9km that Pa was going to run until 20km and Kebba said, “Well then I’ll have to abandon the truck! I must join!” Namaste.

Legs are good today. No tape on adductor muscles and they are functioning just like adductor muscles are supposed too. Blister on left foot is a mess but is not hurting. Right toe blister gone into submission, looks and feels fine. Stomach very cooperative today. Ate half an agara (? Spelling: beans rolled into balls and fried) sandwich at rest under a mango tree on the outskirts of Brikamaba.

Everyday brings a new and wonderful surprise. Today around 12km we were running through rice farms and saw 6 women walking across the field with buckets on their head. They were heading to work for the day. We then got close to us, they began cheering and when close enough, they began to shake my hand and hug me. They were old grandmothers, in their 70s. They had heard that we were coming and were really happy to see us. They said that they wanted to run too. Then they began running in the spot, 70 year old arms swinging back and forth, buckets perched gracefully on their old heads. When we continued running, I felt like I could fly.

We were joined by children for most of the last 5km. A group of young boys hung around our rest blanket in Brikamaba and they joined first. The youngest was about 3 years old, named after the president, and even he ran about 500m! When we arrived in the next village, Jakhaly, it was lunchtime and elementary school kids joined us. They love to chant “Love4Gambia!” Then we were joined by high school youth. Kebba told them that we were running for Peer Health Education and they said they knew their peer health team. They ran about 1km with us to the outskirt of Jakhaly and we told them to stop at the tree marking the end of the village. We drank some water and then we continued up the hill. And these youth continued with us. I turned around and they were still running. About 14 of them. Even though we told them to stop, even though it was hot, around 37, and they were all wearing school uniforms. Even though many of them were barefoot and the pavement is very hot at 1pm. Two boys and two girls finished the 5km with us. How lucky are we?

I will be on Breakfast Television tomorrow, Thursday, at 8:15 AST. I recorded my interview on the phone today while under a tree in Jakhaly, surrounded by a curious audience of kids from Jakhaly Lower Cycle School (elementary).

Tomorrow, Thursday July 14 is my birthday. We will be running 31km for my age, 31 years. Internet time is really limited and I can’t read many facebook messages. But if you would like to wish me happy birthday, I would love for you to donate $31 to Love4Gambia. Or $310. Just click on the “donate now” button on the homepage.

Much love,
Erin

The Rains Down in Africa

Tuesday, July 12, 2011, 9:30pm, Janjangbureh

Day 5, 125km run!

Today we received the treat we’ve been waiting for, RAIN!  Finally!  As we were leaving camp this morning, the first few drops began falling.  It was blissfully cool, about 24 degrees, during our first 20km run and it rained for most of it.  After days running at 37-38 degrees, it was unbelievably lovely.  Kebba said he was cold.

We took our rest at the camp as we were only about 10km away at the end of 20km and because, obviously, it was raining out.  After a 2 hour rest, the rain had cleared and it was like a new day began.  This new day was 37 degrees.  Its unbelievable how it different the weather can be in one day.

I was so grateful for the rain today because of how I was feeling.  Now when you read this, know that I am fine.  But the seams on the bucket were leaking a little bit today.

My first 4 days of running involved a lot of negotiation with my stomach/gut.  The runners out there know what I mean.  When you run, much of your blood flow gets diverted to your legs to power then.  Much of the blood supply to your gut gets shunted to your legs.  I am running in 38 degree heat and I absolutely need to drink almost continuously to stay ahead of my fluid and electrolyte loss through sweat.  But a gut with little blood flow isn’t so pleased with this.

My first 4 days with “Gut” sounded like this:

Erin: We need to drink 3 sips of Gatorade now (my rule is always 3 sips at once)

Gut: Sigh. If you must. But we aren’t happy about it

Erin: 3 more sips

Gut: Not now, we are dangerously close to the vomit/poo-your-pants threshold

Erin: Ok, but in 500m we must drink.

My negotiations to eat food during our 90 minute rest weren’t as successful as I always hovered closer to the vomit-threshold.  I haven’t been able to eat as much as I wanted or as much as Ashley, Pa and Kebba want me to during this period.

Today, negotiations with Gut turned sour.

Erin: Gatorade is coming

Gut: For the love of God, why have you been shaking us up and down for 2.5 hours a day nonstop for 4 days. WTF.

Erin: Because we need to run. Gatorade coming

Gut: So help me God, if you drown us in artificially colored sugar and salt one more time, you’ll be sorry

Erin: Gatorade has to come

Gut: You’ve left us no choice but to squeeze you in protest.  For 20km.

And so I ran all of my 20km this morning with waves of gut cramping.  I ran behind a tree twice.  Kebba and I even walked about 200m so I could calm Gut down.  This has nothing to do with African/tropical illness, it’s purely a runner phenomenon.  I drank way less than my target today because I just couldn’t put it in my stomach.  Luckily with the cool weather and the rain, I wasn’t sweating as much and could survive on less fluid.

My team was brilliant as always.  We were laughing tonight about how there is no modesty and no secrets with a team that is trying to run across a country.

Back at camp for rest, I ordered a sandwich about 90 minutes in.  It arrived about 2 hours into rest.  This is the longest window between running and eating that I’ve had.  The waiter brought me a “canned meat” sandwich, aka Spam.  On a full load of tapalapa, it was bigger than a footlong sub at Subway. I figured that I already felt really bad, what’s the worst that could happen and I ate almost all of it.

Honest to God, it cured me.  I had no problem with my second 5km run.  I drank my target of 750ml of Gatorade. The moral of the story is that you can shut your gut up with Spam. Amen.

Aside from my cramping stomach, I’ve had to operate on my left toe blister again.  I also took off my socks at 20km and was highly offended to see a huge blood blister on a right toe known for good behavior. I was trying to tell Ashley that despite blister and cramping problems, we could at least be grateful that my legs are fine.  And then she reminded me that both of my adductor (groin) muscles are taped.

Anyway, I think that today was a day of struggle to overcome and the good news is that my second 5km run was as comfortable as any run I’ve ever done.  I think tomorrow will be a good day.  The holes in the bucket have been patched.

My team was really significant to me today.  When I get home, it won’t be “Erin Poirier ran across The Gambia.”  It’ll be “Team Love4Gambia- Erin, Ashley, Kebba and Pa Modou ran across The Gambia.”  I run all of the steps each km but we share this.  We share the work.  We take care of each other.  I only ran 3km solo today, my people, Pa, Kebba and Ashley plan each morning to stagger their runs.

Halfway through this morning’s run, I was feeling like I feel during the mid miles of a marathon.  Where you need something to focus on to help the time disappear.  On the road to Banjul, you don’t need to look far for this focus.  Additionally, running next to me is often Kebba who is like my personal Dalai Lama- so full of inspiration and encouragement and support.

Your support from home helps too.  Please continue to support us.

A team with a whole lotta love

Blue Nose race weekend has come and gone and for Team Love4Gambia, the weekend was full of… love.  For youth and communities in my beloved Gambia.

We had 92 runners and walkers complete the Blue Nose Marathon’s race events.  These people raised a phenomenal $24,100 for The Gambia and the Nova Scotia-Gambia Association.

I can still hardly believe the generosity, kindness and energy for giving displayed by these 92 beautiful people.

Like I said to my runners and walkers at the Love4Gambia Team Pasta Dinner, I knew a lot of things when I decided that I would run across The Gambia in July:

I knew that the length of The Gambia was 430 km.

I knew that it would be hot and humid and rainy in July.

I knew that this run would be tough but that the money raised would go a long way for youth and communities; that it would save lives.

I did not know how spectacularly generous people would be.

I had no idea that 114 people would show up for me, for Gambia.  That they would embrace my cause and sign up for my team.

I had no idea that 68 people would raise more than the $100 minimum I asked them to raise.  My sponsor Luke from Aerobics First and I bravely set our prize giveaway at $500, aware that we may not be able to give our prizes away.

I can’t describe to you the joy and gratitude that I feel when I look at my fundraising page and see that 17 people raised more than $500 each.

These people deserve recognition.  They are: Jeff Covert ($880), Hiya Field ($850), Lori Wood ($735), Megan Aston ($720), David Kachan ($710), Gina O’Leary ($650), Edwin Callaghan ($610), Kate Keast ($565), Jakob Conrad ($545), Robert Hughes ($540), Marie Leslie ($522), Theresa Callaghan ($510), Kristen Callaghan ($500), Mike Juurlink ($500), Sarah Chiasson ($500), Mary Catherine Connolly ($500).

I have no idea how to properly thank these 92 people for the incredible thing that they have helped us do for communities in The Gambia.

In 2010, more than 1000 kids under age 5 died of malaria.  When the number of malaria deaths in 2011 is less, I hope my Love4Gambia runners and walkers will feel a Gambian mother’s gratitude in their hearts because they will have helped make that happen.

I’ll let some of our friends in The Gambia finish my thanks:

My 10k Race Recap: My Team, My Course

I tried to focus the best I could on my 10km race on Sunday.  My fitness has been really good this training cycle but for a variety of reasons, I haven’t been pulling off the race results that my fitness should produce.  I was worried about a number of things all week, mostly related to team logistics, but was also worried about not being able to focus on my race amidst team duties.

I made sure that I had no responsibilities race day. I ran to the start of the course with Candice and warmed up.  We almost blew our race by leaving our entrance to the start corral too late.  Five minutes before the gun went, we were behind 3000 people.  Eek!  Luckily, skinny girls can squeeze through a crowd.  With as little pushing and shoving as possible, we made a mad dash to the front.  If I stepped on your toes while doing this, I’m sorry.  We got to the front in time for me to give Mike a quick good luck hug and then the gun fired.  Go time.

10km is my most challenging race distance.  For me, it’s a long time to run fast.  I prefer the half marathon where you can run a little slower for a little longer.  I had a race plan, developed with coach Cliff, and ran the first 3km on planned pace.

If I don’t “hate running” during a 10k race, then I call it successful.  I know that I need to focus my mind so I that I don’t begin to hate running and often I use a mantra to do this.  As I turned onto the bridge, I needed to focus. “My team. My course” popped into my head, pushing out all hateful running thoughts.  The effort was hard but I could do it thinking about how I owned these streets and that I was out there with MY 92-person team.

The TSN turning point of my race was after the turnaround when I started running back by my friends and Love4Gambia teammates.  I saw Candice first and she looked focused and fine.  Then I saw Lori who was yelling wildly at me and wanted either a wave or a high five.  I wanted to high five her badly but held back.  I knew that up next was my beautiful baby sister Kristen, who was running her first ever race.

I’ve never gotten the chance to run a race with Kristen and here I was on a course that would deliver her sweet smiling face to my side.  I knew I had a choice.  Run fast or run less fast and high five my teammates, my friends and family.  After Kristen would be my aunt Dawn, Karen, uncle Rob, friends Dave, Andrew, Stu, Michelle, Phil…

As soon as I saw Kristen coming up Nantucket with a beaming smile, running on the outside of the crowd so we could meet, my choice was easily made.

Hands held out, we connected in a triumphant high-five.  My sister looked amazing and I felt amazing.

I proceeded to wave at Rob, Dawn, Andrew, Emma and Michelle & gang.  I high-fived Stu.  I high-fived Harrison.  I high-fived Dave.  I was slightly worried when a woman told me that I was the fourth female and that I could still catch the third place woman.  What if she also told the fifth place woman that!

I didn’t run the bridge well on the way to Dartmouth but held my pace better on the way back.  I saw my former coach Matt at 1500m to go and he told me to stay tough to the finish so I did.  Well, until I saw my family, Melissa and Joanne, who wanted a photo so I happily obliged.

My Garmin rang 10k well before the finish line.  The course was long- 10.27km according to my Garmin.  I finished 39^th overall and ran most of the course alone, no one next me, so I know that I was running perfect tangents.  I would expect a Garmin to read 10.05 km maybe but not 227m long.  Many of the fast men who I spoke with after also had Garmin readings of 10.27-10.3km.

I finished in 43:42, not even my best Blue Nose 10km but a happy one.  I held onto 4^th place female and my prize for being 3^rd in my age group was an Adidas hat.

The best prize though was that high five from my sister Kristen.

My sister Kristen and I

Check out our team photos on Flick!  Click here for our race photos and here for our team pasta dinner photos: