Seventeen.

Thick, warm, porcelain was pressed up against my lips as I grasped the warm mug in the palms of my hands.  Inhaling the rich scent energized my mind and upon taking a sip I could feel myself warm all the way down into my stomach.  All around us, the breakfast cafe was bustling with runners and a harmonious hum of nervous banter.  Race bibs already in place, knit hats pulled over ears and plates piled high with eggs and bacon, I drank in the whole scene as I quietly sipped my coffee and nibbled on a piece of dry pumpernickel toast. 

It was the morning of Number Seventeen.  Oddly, I found myself very calm, and I think it was because this was my third Hyannis Marathon, so I knew what to expect, despite the course being updated a little.  Rather, I thought I knew what to expect.  Little did I know that the landscape truly has changed, until I found myself sitting in that cafe, across the table, staring into his beautiful, brown, soulful, deep, kind eyes.  It was at that moment I realized that I'm no longer running wildly alone.  There's other creatures, other runners, friends, animals in my life now, and at that moment I realized I was home.  I had found my pack of other slightly deranged, mangy animals to run with, and they had welcomed me into their pack.  It was a pleasant feeling showing up to this race and actually knowing others rather than being my own shadow, showing up to run, running, and then vanishing as the marathon's ghost.

Despite this crazy family and partner I have found, I soon found myself standing at the start alone.  My pack had dispersed and were eagerly and individually preparing to run their own race, sprinkled throughout the start.  Wild animals, all of us, hiding in the bushes, ready to attack.  Then the siren went off, and off we went. 

This was my third Hyannis, and I thought I knew what to expect.  However, what I didn't realize is just how popular the half marathon portion of this race has grown and the field absolutely mirrored the fact that the race had been oversold.  The first half of this marathon was unbelievably stressful.  I was almost tripped twice.  I couldn't even get to the water stations - there were so many novice runners walking up to the water stations, stopping in the middle of the line of fire or cutting me off to get a cup of water, ear buds blasting and with no regard to anyone else around them.  I was elbowed and pushed.  It was annoying and infuriating.  It was stressful and I started my second half dehydrated, miffed and worried:  Number 18 is only in 6 days and will be a field of 17,000 people, mostly half marathoners and myself again in the marathon minority.  Would it be more ridiculous than this?  Ugh. 

Then I looked up and his long legs fell into stride with mine.  He had finished (and won his category) in the half marathon and ran with me for the next mile or so as a cool down.  He helped me snap out of my angst for the crowded first 13 miles and back into a happy and relaxed mental state.  I gave him my gloves and headband, told him to save me a towel for my post-race shower and then off I went once we parted ways.  I desperately had to make up time.

The second half of the course was a duplicate loop of the first, but after all of those zoo animals, it could have very well been a fresh course.  However, one thing that I was not anticipating was how the crowd of the half marathon during the first loop completely reduced the amount of headwind.  Suddenly, during miles 17 through 21, I was running in place along an exposed stretch of beach.  Sand kicked itself up off the beach and pushed me backwards.  I kept plowing ahead, legs tired from the additional effort with little return.  My ankle injury re-emerged from a combination of the forceful running against the wind and new sneakers being tied too tightly.  Mile 21 gave me a hill which wasn't so bad the first time around, but was brutal on this back section.  Then 22, 23...244......2555555........FINISH!  I crossed the finish line in 3:55.  Not the time I was looking to achieve by any stretch, but all things considered, a success and another medal.  Another medal milestone in my collection of adventures, even though this one was not as exotic as others. 

I moved through the chute, half staggering, half walking, grabbing water and bending at the waist, knees shaking.  When I straightened, there he was and there were those big, warm, arms around me, my face buring itself into his chest, not even coming up to his shoulders.  Sure, Number Seventeen is another medal in my arsenal, but after my first Hyannis being part of the catalyst of the Great Life Upheaval of 2010, my second Hyannis being the beginning of my previous year of floundering and toxic situations, all I could feel was relief and comfort that my third was so happy and warm.  The rest of the afternoon was spent bantering with friends who also had been running, and of course, tons of smiles and laughter.  Home.  Three times the charm?  Who the hell knows, and only time will tell.  I'm not stopping until I have answers though, and running will help me focus and ask the right questions to make these answers known; to get me there.

In the meantime, I'll see you on the other side of Number 18 in just a few days.