Running Beyond

Well there's no such thing as a weekend away in Haiti that isn't adventure. This past weekend was no exception. It started with me foolishly thinking I could drink the rest of my coffee in my coffee cup on the way to pick up friends. The rocks make it impossible and my dress quickly turned from white to brown with just a few feet of travel. We met Mickenson and Jasmine with kisses on the cheek (cultural hello) and packed their things on top of ours. We managed to get out of town without too much trouble. Lilly Cruz was in a booster spouting off the latest Bible verses to finish Friday's school work and Ava was stretched out in laps with big grins and a can of Pringles. We sang and laughed and told stories for the hours in the car together. We reached the mountains of Gressier and Decouze. With every switchback I felt a little more green and Ava looked a little more hesitant about the Pringles' reappearance. Ironically, the deforestation of Haiti (1%) has never been more obvious than from that kind of elevation. The motorcycles buzzed by with little caution and the heavy trucks stayed in the middle of the otherwise narrow road. Thankfully, the car sick stops were short and few.

We arrived in Jacmel near 10:30am. Jasmine was ready to stretch her legs and catch a bathroom break, given the baby squirming inside her makes a nearly 4 hour road trip less than uncomfortable. The hotel had a great view of the ocean and cliff-like beach feel. We unpacked and left Jasmine and the girls down by the pool while we went to pick up my "race packet." Charles spotted the Run Haiti sign around a card table right on the beach and we talked to Race Director Kyle for a while. No packet to it. A t-shirt, a race number and four pins. I love the no frills. It's Haiti after all. Mickenson was so excited to go with us to pick it up. Charles has long been a part of my crazy hobby and was ready to get to the beach.

Friday was a lot of laying around the pool, swimming, talking dreams, sipping banana bebidos, and getting sun. Charles and I shared some exciting news with them and they had some big questions for us. We watched the sunset over the mountains in the distance and sat by the pool until dark. Next we found Jacmel Pizza, which on the outside of the shack like building reads "Italian and Mexican food." I have never seen that combination together but sure enough there were quesadillas and spaghetti dishes intertwined on the menu. Mickenson and Charles decided on one large pizza and the girls followed suit. Tim McGraw came over the loud speaker about BBQ stains and white t-shirts and other Americans sat at a table not too far away.

Ava was asleep on the way back to the hotel but woke as we got her into bed.... We slid them into Jasmine and Mickenson's bed so we could stay up and hang out for a little while longer. As of late, the tradition is for Mickenson to play them a song and sing. Sure beats my quick prayers and off key attempts. Our hanging out a little while turned into a long while, some guitar playing, some laughter and two girls staying in their bed for the duration of the short night of sleep. Our lights finally went out around midnight. I was in and out with every bathroom trip, sound of people outside, etc and even managed to beat my 5:30am alarm. I had everything out but could not find my running shirt which I knew I packed but couldn't locate. I looked through bags in the dark again and went with the running attire I could find.

I grabbed a gatorade and we all climbed in except Jasmine who was still sleeping. The girls were in their gowns and I was jittery. I was trying to down some fuel and still feel light. Lilly prayed that the Haitians wouldn't blow past me and that I would win! I laughed at her and knew winning wasn't likely but appreciated her innocent prayer. Race morning was not like the others. No bathrooms. No gun going off. No clock anywhere.

We sat around for a half hour watching the waves come in, snapping pictures, checking out the others arriving on motorcycles and watching the beach side exercise equipment put to use by the locals. Mickenson zoned in on one girl and made the comment, "she's got a lot of work to do." But she had gotten started and that's what counts. I was about to get started too.

Some Haitian girls lined up by the start line and sang the national anthem. It was good to hear the Haitian runners chime in along with Mickenson and Jasmine. I smiled from the start line at my little fan base on the side. I look back and hear someone say Na we pita which means "see you later" and I turn around and lip the commonly used si jevle (if God wants). And we heard Kyle counting down 10 - 9 - 8 - 7 - 6 -5 - 4 -3 - 2 -1. GO! Who needs a gun start anyways. And we were off.

I was right behind another runner and thankful he was dodging the motorcycles first hand. He knew from my shadow I was there and the bonjours that were exchanged between me and the many Haitians who were staring in confusion. Why are they running? I'm sure they wondered from what exactly we were running. About two miles in I got brave and passed him up a steep hill lacking any kind of shoulder. It wasn't long before the first turn which I missed. No markings. Just a boy with a bag of waters and a t-shirt that read Run Haiti. Thankfully, I know enough Creole to hear someone saying turn left, turn left. I headed into the rocky course and looked back long enough to see the other guy getting farther and farther away. As I overheard Kyle saying, mile 4 -6 was quite a climb. I was so relieved to see someone with water at the top not so much because of the water as the reference that I was in fact on course. I have to say that Haitians often drink water out of a little 5 oz bag and this is in fact genius for a race. I grabbed a little bag, exclaimed a mesi boucoup and kept going. He said I was at the top of the mountain and I'd be headed down hill for a while. That was the hardest climb of the race he said in just the split seconds I saw him. I ripped open a GU and started with it in one hand and water in the other. It was a game of alternating the two for the next mile or so. I handed the half-finished GU to a small kid reaching out and told him it was good stuff in my heavy-breathing broken Creole. I pinched the hole in the water where I had ripped a tiny corner off with my teeth. Nobody with a race number in sight, I turned my tunes back on and headed down the half-paved path. It wasn't long before I was down one mountain and faced with a T in the road. I saw another kid with a bag of waters and he pointed right. The path was still headed downhill but a few hundred feet later there was a Y in the road and I looked back for any direction on which way to take. I saw more than one of their dark arms point right so off I went. As I started into the wooded path, I realized the climb was getting steeper and steeper until my quads were burning. I looked at my Garmin and I didn't remember anything about a steep incline around mile 9. I kept going as my steps shortened and my breathing labored. It was a little disconcerting that I was feeling so uncertain about this. I started praying for a sign whether this was right. About a mile into it, I am still climbing one short step after another and feeling like my tongue was hanging out so far it could have touched the ground, I see the #2 guy coming down the mountain. (What the ???) We exchanged not a single word. With limited English he just pointed down, so I gladly took that as a sign and turned around. I thought I was flying down that mountain and that if I stepped slightly wrong I'd be rolling down it. It wasn't long before I arrived back at that same Y and saw 30-40 men at the top of that same hill clapping when I quickly corrected the mistake. At least a two-mile mistake! I picked up speed given it was continuing down hill. I passed runners I had not seen since the start line. It was reassuring to see them and know that I wasn't second guessing myself. I did take a couple more wrong turns and quickly corrected them as soon as I sensed they weren't in fact en route to finish. I passed the #2 guy again and soon passed the Haitian kid who had been trailing in third in the first couple of miles. He leaned over for a deep breath and let out a big "No!" as if to stop me in my tracks. It didn't work. I knew he was sorry his legs wouldn't allow him to go forward and his best effort was a yell. I made one more little wrong turn and found myself at a dead end and a busy market. Not what you want for a little white girl in a sea of Haitian negotiators. I got back on track and prayed my GU would still carry me through the mistakes and get me to the finish. Soon after, a truck with people in the back handed me a second bag of water and I wiped the sweat from my face. One of the guys in the back had a race number so I asked him if he had already finished. He laughed and shook his head. I asked about the remaining distance. At this point, it was useless to depend on my Garmin. Too many wrong turns made for a flaw in guessing the remaining miles. Someone yelled out "you're in the lead and you're close." So I picked up speed, not knowing who was behind me and how many steps behind. I still didn't know where to go so I yelled back "where to?" and then I looked up to see a small body of water. I looked around. No path around it. I had a quick thought about the Going on A Bear Hunt little story that reminded me of checking all alternatives to only find I'd have to go through it. I held my little shuffle and my Garmin up above the water and went chest deep into it. Nothing like running on rocks and trying to half swim with my arms up through a lake while the locals are bathing, roping cattle, carrying loads of produce on their head across, etc. I felt like a wimp and at the same time never missed a beat. I came out like a car through the car wash except I'm not sure the water could be described as clean. I could feel the water weight added to my shoes but knew it wasn't long. I could see the ocean by now and could use it as a reference. Well, until I got into town and was blinded by the motorcycle's exhaust. The sun was hot by now and I could feel the sunburn on my shoulders. I tried to find the same truck but it had stopped so I kept guessing. Turning one way or another until I found my way or heard someone honking at me to go this way and that. I stopped on more than one occasion to ask for directions. Haitians thought it was so funny. Funny to tell me the wrong way, funny I was running, funny I seemed in a hurry, funny I was dripping wet, just funny. I finally turned a corner and caught a glimpse of the ocean ahead and a sign that read "Finish." The best part was that I could see the outline of three adults and two kids and knew they were watching for me. They saw me coming from blocks away and were yelling in the distance. I heard their voices clearer the closer I got and then I was close enough to see them and smile with them and hold my hands up in victory. It was a fun victory. I stopped my watch. Twelve and a half miles. No telling what it was supposed to be except that I knew I signed up for a 20k. Mickenson had a face of shock as he had never seen me run, much less win and I had very openly admitted I didn't see winning as a likely outcome.

Two times in the race I heard God speak to me, one was almost audible in which God told me to "look up" and I realized the pavement was secure and I could indeed look up and see the breath-taking views of Haiti from the mountain top. Another time I heard him say a section of the Psalms I had read the previous night. He speaks to me often on my runs and I was so grateful for this experience. I was also relieved of the #2 guy coming down the mountain at just the moment I prayed for a sign. I have no idea where he came from and I even offered that maybe he should have won since no one quite knows who completed the actual course.

Several runners came in soon behind me and we all kind of gathered and congratulated one another. It was a victory for all of us. One Haitian man said something in quick Creole to Mickenson to which he replied faster than I could understand. They erupted in laughter and then Mickenson turned to me with a thumbs up. I made a face that I didn't really understand but he could tell me later so I didn't have to admit my lack of language proficiency. He leaned over and said, that guy thinks I'm your coach. Apparently Mickenson had not denied it. I smiled back and called him Coach. We laughed. There was no table of food, no awards ceremony, no finishing tape but there were high fives, Haitian made medals, and a lot of good memories made in that few hours.

We snapped a few pictures and hopped in the car. We were headed back for a day to relax and be on the beach. A cold shower felt good and I could hear Mickenson and Lilly singing to the guitar. We sat around for a while and sang and praised God for a fun morning. The day carried on in the way of sunshine and splashing in the pool. We went down to the beach where we ate whole fish and plantains right by the water. Mickenson played some tunes on the guitar and we sang what we knew. It was so fun. I wish there was a word for it that meant more than fun but I guess fun fun is all I can come up with.

The trek back started around 4pm and we arrived home at around 8pm. The girls slept in laps and the four of us enjoyed the time together. We sang out praise music and reminisced on the weekend.

My phone started ringing about 5pm and friends heard I won. I figured it was up on social media somewhere. Mickenson said, "I knew you were famous." Ha. Hardly. I was excited to see some shots of the race since there was hardly any one on the course.

We arrived to a happy dog and our own beds. We stayed too late to where the time change didn't matter after all. Sunday morning came early and daylight found me sore with a little blondie in my lap but we were both smiling. The victory still resonated. God is good all the time.

the view from our hotel room ...

Exactly how I feel Lilly Cruz ...

My cheering crew!

Mickenson and Jasmine all smiles with our girls

Coach Mick

Top finishers!

Prize money!!!

beach time!

Some praise and worship at the hotel!