How do you measure, measure a year?

It's late April, nearly May.  That means it's time for Oklahoma.  Last year at this time, I waxed poetically about how much different my experience at the OKC marathon was going to be versus the year before.  Little did I know how true those words would be:

We don't know what race day will bring. We won't know until we get there, until we toe the line in six days.  But we do know that we will be together at the beginning. And we will be together at the end, waiting for each other at the finish, with laughter and hugs and maybe tears (happy tears - NO MORE CRYING IN RACES, DAMMIT!). 

Really, we had NO idea.So, here it is again, time to run the Race to Remember. And where are we now?    And what's in store for us this time?

Well.... of the group of White Rock Lake Girls that ran last year, only two of us are making the return trip this weekend.  Life has happened, as it is wont to do, in the intervening months since we posed for that pic above, since we sat under an awning in the pouring rain.

Kris had a baby a few weeks ago, the most chewable little bundle of Snackpacks we could imagine, and even though we tried to convince her this is precisely why Baby Bjorns and Jog strollers were invented, she opted out of the fun this time. Mel has been racing and training on her own over on the east side of town, and we don't get to see her much anymore, but she got super fast, and got bit by the triathlon bug, because she doesn't already make the most of every hour in the day!! Fiona totally conquered her first trail 50k in November, and followed up with a marathon PR at White Rock in rain (flashback much, Fi?) rivaling last year's conditions. Then she got to be super sherpa/crew to her husband as he hit 100 miles in under 24 hours. It's tough to be a ninja.  Bojana moved to New York last summer, to start a new life and new adventures.  She's racing and running, and will be toeing the line at Big Sur Marathon this weekend, fresh off a crazy 5K PR a few weeks ago.

Marci is running the full again, on her own. But not alone. Not at all.  She will carry us in her heart, and she will be cheered along the way by some more amazing friends That Pink Girl and Drum, and Team Kennemer too, when they finish their half, too.  And from afar by our other Frunners who are racing their own events that day and can't be with us in body as she goes back to Oklahoma and takes what is hers. She smashed her marathon PR in Chicago last fall, and I fully expect her to run a strong, hard and JOYFUL run this year.  She's not the same person that she was last May. She has spent the last year preparing, and training like a beast, and getting stronger and wiser and more confident. And I can't wait to finish the half, and haul my burnt-orange-clad bottom (yes, I'm wearing a Texas shirt to race in Oklahoma.  Act surprised.) to get to Mile 23 when she comes through.

Once again, we don't really know what we will get on race day.  We can refresh weather.com until we crash the site, we can do all that we know to do to prepare for that day, mentally and physically, but we won't know what will happen until it actually comes to pass. But one thing I do know, is that once again, no matter the time on the clock this race is a day when we will be surrounded and measured not by qualifying times or PRs, but measured in love.

Go getcha some, Marci!