Are you okay?
Part 10: JFK 50 Mile Story
I just ran 50.2 miles. My mind was stunned, my body grateful, and I smiled from ear to ear.
A volunteer turned towards me, holding a gold medal. "Congratulations," he said, placing the ribbon over my head.
As the medal rested against my chest, the enormity of what I'd just done hit me. My vision blurred with tears.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his hand steadying my shoulder.
A tear rolled down my cheek, then another.
"Yes, yes," I managed to say.
He smiled. "Is this your first JFK 50?"
I nodded with a grin.
He smiled, “I understand, I see this a lot.”
I scanned the crowd imagining my children and Jeff rushing towards me. I wanted to hug them. I needed a hug. I wish they could have come.
My tears continued and the man asked again, “Are you okay?”
I shivered, “Where’s the gym?”
Another volunteer approached and handed me a shiny, foil blanket to help maintain my body temperature. She pointed toward the school. “Go inside and get warmed up. They have tables set up with food too.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
I shuffled towards the school weaving around spectators and runners. I grinned at everyone who passed. A strange tingling spread across my upper lip then crept toward my nose like novocaine at the dentist. Just need some food, I told myself, hobbling toward the refreshment table.
The spread of sandwiches, soup, and bananas blurred before me. I couldn't make my hand grab anything. How long had I been standing here?
"Are you okay?" a volunteer's voice cut through my daze. Her eyes crinkled with concern as she leaned across the table.
I shook my head, “My face feels like pins and needles.”
“Let’s get you to medical.”
She came alongside me. Her fingers around my wrist steadied me as we made our way to the gym. The squeak of our sneakers echoed across the wood floor. In the far corner, medical cots formed a makeshift triage area, and runners occupied each one. Medical staff in bright red jackets moved between them.
"Right here," she said, leading me to a school lunch table. I sank onto the bench, relieved to rest. "Don't move – I'll find someone."
This is so strange, don’t freak out. My nervous system is just looking out for me. I ran for a long time this is just how my body is letting me know.
I closed my eyes and focused on my breath. I continued to coach myself—anything to stay calm. I hadn’t expected this. I wasn’t sure what to do.
Deep breath.
Outside hundreds of feet were still pounding the pavement. Felicia would be crossing the finish line any minute now and I wouldn't be there to cheer her on. My mouth and nose buzzed while my arms felt heavy and numb.
This is so weird.
I clenched and unclenched my fists; my fingers were stiff. I found it difficult to move them to remove my running vest.
Deep breath.
A man came over in a red jacket and asked, “What’s going on?”
I hesitated a moment. “My mouth and nose are tingling and numb. My arms feel the same.”
“Are you allergic to anything?”
“No.”
“Has this happened to you before?”
I shook my head, “No, this is my first 50 miles.”
“Let’s get you some fluids and something to eat.”
He came back with a paper cup of Gatorade and a banana.
“Drink this. You might be low on potassium.”
My stiff, cold fingers could barely grasp the cup, forcing me to use both hands like a child. As my fingers refused to cooperate, panic began to rise. I focused on my breathing, reminding myself— I just ran 50 miles. I’ll be okay. Just keep breathing.
To be continued…
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Where’s the finish line
Oh no Julie! I burst into tears with the gold medal. You are my gold medal friend. So proud of you. Wow, that sounds scary. It's a cliffhanger all the way through! You have crafted this so well xoxo