Running With A Different Crowd

The funny thing about exercising frequently is it begins to engulf you.
If you let it.
And when you have people flying in to see you run a half marathon (13.1 miles) in December,
you let it.
This entire past week I have only had water and (mostly) fruit. Especially the 24 hours leading up to my first race.
The Cooper Young Festival 4 miler. 
I've felt great.
Incredible.
Sure it sucks denying myself so much in the food category (my biggest weakness, hands down), but it was worth it. I felt better about 20 minutes after I decided against it.
I ran better.
Felt great.
I didn't get to the race until about 10 minutes before it started (some transportation confusion on both my and my hippie friend's part).
I didn't know how I would feel about only inviting one friend to be there. And when I got to the race, it felt pretty lonely.
Everyone had a running partner.
Except yours truly.
But I've trained alone. (Actually I hadn't ran 4 miles since Paris, which we are approaching about a month since pretty soon, yeah, I know). This school year is about learning to be independent again.
Wasn't it supposed to be easy by now?
I spent a month alone in Paris.
And have spent so much time alone here in Memphis the past few weeks.
Haven't I reached the threshold yet?
Aren't I supposed to not care about that boy anymore? It was over in May. Not my fault. He chose something else. You get over it. Its been months.
I'm on a great adventure by myself now.
Why should I feel like anything is missing?
Why do I feel so alone in a huge crowd of people?
So self conscious. So nervous.
God, I have to pee. Do I have time to pop a squat in that port-a-potty before they start the race? Should I risk it? It would be awful to get out and realize everyone has already gone. I better wait. Maybe I will run faster if I have to pee.
And why are there so many old people here with all these official running shirts? Did Santa just say he is running the St. Jude Full Marathon? I'm 21, at least half his age, and I'm only running half?
And then there's all the beautifully unique and artsy midtowners who have come out to stretch their trained legs and push their artsy babies in sporty strollers through the streets of midtown.
"For those doubts that swirl all around us, for those lives that tear at the seams,
We know, we're not what we've seen."
So many crazy, rushed thoughts.
And then someone shouts. And more cheer. And you look up.
And there's a mass of humans running away.
In Memphis, this usually means someone just got shot.
Just kidding.
It's an incredible sight.
But you don't have much time to wait around staring, it's time to go.
So you feed in through the finish line like cows and once you hit the sensor box, the mass moves quickly.
As a sidenote, races these days imbed a sensor into either your number or on a disposable bracelet people wear or put on their shoes. In essence, when the race is over, it isn't necessarily the person that crosses the finish line first that wins. Since you start in different waves (I was in wave 2 of 3, as determined by the anticipated pace time I entered on my registration form), you won't know who is first until everyone is done.
One piece of advice I've repeatedly been told is to stay at my pace and don't feel a need to stay with the front of the crowd. I kept that in mind as I moved with the masses trying to cool my adrenaline.
The first song that came on my running playlist was by far the best song my phone could have bestowed upon my ears right then.
"Marchin On" by OneRepublic.
It is a song of this era of my life. Push through. Despite everything I'm not (a generic church member, a 7 minute/mile runner, a girlfriend, the best friend, highly intellectual, creative, business minded), I march on.
"There's so many wars we fought, there's so many things we're not,
But with what we have, I promise you that,
We're marchin' on."
I march on for who I am.
Which, a lot of the time, is alone.
But for that 38 minutes of running, I ran with "friends," with people who shared my passion. Maybe with some running through their own personal struggles.
With people who, in a way, had been down my path for a little bit, integrating exercise into their life for at least the last little bit.
"For this dance, we'll move with each other. 
There ain't no other step than one foot right in front of other."
Running that race was an incredibly unique experience that only Cooper Young could give.
It is an area that creatively expresses their intelligence and prides themselves on community.
There were so many people along the neighborhood streets to cheer us on. Many threw lawn parties just before the race and cheered with their friends as we ran by. Some held signs for their friends who were running. Several had bubble machines and disco lights out.
And when I thought I didn't have any breath left, they made me realize I had enough to laugh from the bottom of my lungs with such pure and exhilarating joy that could only be produced halfway through a race.
Some held out beer cans for anyone who thirsted.
And some held them while wearing a homemade toga.
Yes, a toga party of middle aged adults. "To-ga, To-ga, Go-ga, Go-ga," they shouted. Animal House, anyone?
For the middle bit of the race I was running behind what I thought was the Jolly Green Giant. After the race I realized he was dressed as a green crayon.
I was beaten by a green crayon.
Only Cooper Young.
I try and sprint the last .1 mile (at least), but as I round the corned with around .2 left, I couldn't help, but sprint like the dickens, what with the finish in sight. Thank God I did-I beat a girl in my division by a mere second.
It felt amazing to sprint that last bit with outrageous cheers for all of us as everyone waited for their friends. Mine was there, too to give me an incredibly huge and rewarding hug. I have to admit, I love the attention.
I finished 38th out of 116.
Top one-third. 
Not bad, huh?
I even managed to keep about a 9:30 minute/mile. A much faster pace than normal.
Maybe I didn't managed to keep my normal paced. But I never stopped.
I marched on. 
I not only marched on, but with a high that I would never get from any drug.
Or love.
I did this. No one else.
"We'll have the days we break, And we'll have the scars to prove it.
We'll have the bonds that we save, but we'll have the heart not to lose it."