s.o.s | half marathon

We’ve started a little Friday “Cheers” tradition around here, but today, we’re going to call it something a little more fitting: “S.O.S.”jon-tyson-232630

I’m running a half marathon tomorrow. Save my freaking soul.

Tomorrow’s headlines: Kaitlin Wernet, 25, resident of Nashville, TN, innocent bystander in most cases (except this one), is hesitant to announce that she has officially gone INSANE. IN-SAY-NE. She’s currently seeking intensive counseling, serious hydration, and warm baths.

Here are the things you need to know:

I am an emotional wreck. I started running in January, hoping to explore something my brother loved—a productive, empowering way to grieve. I wanted blood pumping in my dry, tired bones, giving life to the sad narrative I’ve been living. And that’s exactly what happened. It’s come to life—all of it, wholly,—and I think tomorrow will be 13.1 miles of reliving the story. I’ve learned that it’s hard to run and cry at the same time, but my goal is to run toward and through the feelings instead of away from them. Endurance is a mental game I’ve been learning for two-and-a-half years.

Kendall did not run 13.1 miles. (To my knowledge.) In case I needed one, this is an indication that I am a high-functioning fool. But I also kind of love this, because I know that if he were here, he would be doing it. This is uncharted territory, and when I think about how crazy of an idea it is, I know his dimples would be beaming.

The most I’ve run is 10.5 miles. And I limped back to my car (and everywhere else for the next two days) when that happened.

I do not think I can do this. But I cannot wait to do it anyway.

Tonight, I’m eating pasta for dinner. Because that’s all I know to do. Obviously, I’m really good at this. I’ll be qualifying for Boston any moment now.

Tomorrow, I’m eating running goo every forty-five minutes. You probably know more about this than I do. Carry on.

I’m running with a fanny pack. Speaks for itself, really.

My knees are weak. They kneed prayer. (Sorry not sorry.) But really, they haven’t been strong since a few minor knee surgeries I had in high school, and this distance will be pushing it.

I made a running playlist filled with songs I’m too embarrassed to show you, but you can see my “Final Mile” playlist:

These are all songs that remind me of Kendall, and if they can’t get me through the last mile, go ahead and call the stretcher.

  1. “Brother” by NeedToBreathe and Gavin DeGraw
  2. “Rather Be” by Clean Bandit
  3. “Pusher Love Girl” by Justin Timberlake

I’ll (hopefully) cross that finish line listening to Justin sing lyrics about drugs I don’t know about and a brother I miss more than anything. When it plays, I hear Kendall’s silly falsetto voice and electric razor buzzing in the background. It was his morning getting ready song, and I can’t wait for it to be our half-marathon finishing song. We will discuss these things in heaven, I’m quite sure of it.

All in all, I’m ecstatic. I’m confident. I also feel like I’m going to throw up. I’m trusting. I’m thankful.

S.O.S.

Cheers.

You guys are the best cheerleaders around. See you on the other side of the finish line, I hope. xo

4 thoughts on “s.o.s | half marathon

  1. I’ll be praying for you, Kaitlin. You can do this! And just knowing my brother, he’s gonna be right there with your brother rootin’ you on (and would make you laugh hysterically when you’re done!) Godspeed!
    Tova

  2. I think you can, I think you can, I think you can … . Go Kaitlin! So proud of you!!!
    Cathi

  3. Kaitlin, I am SO proud of you & super excited for you. Being a runner and one who has also lost someone close (my sweet Mama), I feel all of your words with you. I’m cheering you on, and I’ll be praying for you tomorrow. For the last mile of my longest race, my best friend and I just kept saying: One little mile, one big medal. Over and over again. Til we crossed the finish line. You got this girl. Go Kaitlin, GO!

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