This past Mother’s Day, while people of the world thanked their mothers for hours of agonizing labor for the sake of giving them life, I partook in an agony of my own. I ran a half marathon. In true Mother’s Day fashion, I ran the race with my mother and sister.
I estimated it would take me about two and a half hours to complete this race. That’s a long time, and I know from training, I can get bored around mile ten. Fortunately, my creative brain keeps me occupied through the proverbial wall and that random hill on east 19^th Ave. What you are about to read is an account of all my thoughts.
4:09 AM
            I roll over in bead to look at my clock. It’s at least another two hours before my alarm clock is set to go off. Typical. Just once I would like the clock with batteries be the bane of my sleeping. Oh well. Time to get up.
7:00 AM
President of the nonprofit organization, TrackTown USA, Vin Lananna kicked off the “Mother of all Marathons” and we slowly moved up our corrals (we were in corral D), waiting for our chance to cross the starting line and start running. Some crazy people started running before they even got to the starting point. Not me. If I’m going to run 13.1 miles, I shall run no more, no less than 13.1.
7:10 AM
My foot steps on the red and blue starting line and my legs start moving. My mom and sister run at a slightly slower pace than me, so before I took off, I need to make our parting count. I look to my right where my mom once was, but she was gone! My head whips around frantically looking for her. She was slightly behind me and I called out to her, “Mom! There’s something I need to tell you! And it’s not that I really, really, really, really like you, but I really, really, really, really like you too.”
“What?” My mom breathes.
“I just want to say: Sorry, Mom, gotta run!” I quoted the slogan on the marathon’s website. I take off, punching the air in reference to the end of the Breakfast Club. As I ran away, I saw my sister laugh. Press start to begin your workout.
Mile 1
The key to the first mile is weaving through the mass. It’s like a traffic jam of people. I determined there are about five lanes I must navigate. The easiest way to run around the jam is the outside lanes, close to the curb. Good, now it’s smooth sailing from WHO PARKED THEIR CAR THERE?! Don’t they know I am trying to run here? You don’t park your car on the curb when there is a marathon. That’s just rude.
I am forced to move to the middle lanes where everyone is slowing me down. Damn, look at that guy’s calves! He definitely works out. I wonder if he is a halfer or a fuller. Probably fuller. Calves that defined are built for full marathons.
Hey, that looks like the Emerald’s drone. I think it is their drone. Now, where is the person from the Emerald? FIND! Good to know the Emerald is on top of their beat reporting.      Wow, I’ve been running for a mile already? That was a fast mile. It felt like at least a 9:30 mile. [Looks at watch] 10:41? This half marathon is gonna suuuuuuuck. I’m thirsty. My mouth is really dry. Shouldn’t there be a water station somewhere around here? If I remember correctly, the first station is around mile two.
Mile 2
Finally! Water. I think I’ll get some Gatorade though. Kristen [my sister] said something about a Gatorade, water, pattern for all the stations, but that sounds silly. I won’t listen. Gatorade, yes, thank you. [drinks] Bleh! Gatorade? More like Water-Ade. What is this that zero-calorie stuff? That’s ridiculous. Some people’s kids. At least they had a trashcan for my cup. It’s just disrespectful toward the environment to toss your water cup on the ground.
There are a lot of people passing me. No. Don’t care about the other people. You are just here to finish this thing. Perhaps if I just walk a little bit it won’t hurt. NO! I ran the entire thing without stopping last year, I will do the same thing this year.
Mile 3
Oh thank God! Another water station. I can stop to drink my water. Running while drinking water is bad for you. [looks out at people running] TUTUS! Not only are they wearing matching outfits, but they are wearing red tutus! I must defeat them!
Mile 4
I know what my problem is. I am thinking about running. What’s something that can take my mind off of running? Character! Think of a character. Alliah. Now I need a plot. What is Alliah doing? Alliah is a stupid name. Think of a better name. Can’t. Alliah it is.
Clink. Clink, clink, clink. Alliah knocked her metal pitcher on the counter until she saw all the little bubbles disappear. She swirled the pitcher in a counterclockwise motion and with one last click, she was satisfied with her steamed milk. It looked perfect. She grabbed her coffee mug and tilted it at a 30 degree angle (Why 30 degrees? That’s very specific. Whatever.) As she watched the milk mix with the espresso she once again tried to free-pour coffee art in the way she was shown some time ago. As she straightened her cup, she made a series of crazy squiggles on top. She looked at what she had drawn, titled her head to the side and concluded quite confidently that she had drawn a liger. She knew it probably didn’t look like anything, but she thought it looked like a liger. She could be, like, the Picasso of latte art. She draws things that vaguely look like something, but it isn’t quite abstract.
Alliah set her drink on the counter and sachet around the corner to the outer counter where customers pick up their drinks. She picked up her (What is she drinking? Fog? No, that doesn’t have coffee. Latte, I guess. With caramel) caramel latte and sat in a comfy chair. She tucked her legs underneath her and set a newspaper in her lap. (Is that normal? Do people go to coffee shops and read newspapers? I don’t care. I’m a journalist and she’s reading the newspaper.)
What if she read a book though? She took a sip of her coffee and reached into her bag to pull out her latest read. It was a French World War II novel because she somehow was obsessed with those types of stories nowadays. And the author is a journalist. Journalists write the best novels.
Mile 6
Hey, it’s the beat the blurch guy! Kristen will be happy to see that poster. [Looks at sidelines] PUPPY! It’s so cute! And sleepy. Sleepy puppy.
I wonder who this lady is in front of me. She will be my running buddy. Whaaaaaat?! Little Red Running Head. That girl is NOT the minimum 12 years of age. And she just passed me like I’m standing still. Dang. That cuts deep. She’s running with her mom. How nice. I wonder where my mom is. She’s probably not that far behind me. Oh, Lil’ Red stopped. Makes sense. Wait, what does she have? Is that a cell phone? Did she stop to text? SHE DID! In all my years…
Mile 7
Ah, mile 7. My iPod broke here last year. It couldn’t handle all this running and gave up. Like the Taco [my brother’s Toyota Tacoma]. But this year, my new iPod is going strong. Much more dependable. Power Song, yeah!
[“Lonely Boy” by the Black Keys]
Mile 8
South Eugene High School. I’m almost at the nine mile mark. The best part about this station is they always have bananas! I’m not hungry, but a banana sounds great. And of course there is someone in a gorilla suit handing out the bananas. Now I have to run up this long ass hill and back to campus for more water. I’m going to need some serious power music
[“Safety Dance” plays]
AWWWWWW YEAH! This is my JAM!
Back on campus. The sign says “Gatorade first, then water.” I don’t need instructions on hydration! This Gatorade seems to be getting stronger with each station that I pass. This is almost full-strength sports drink. 
Mile 9
Why is that guy holding a massive tub of Vaseline? Like seriously, where are people going to put that?
Now all I have to do is make the most convoluted loop around Autzen ever and I’m done. I wonder what happened to my running buddy. I lost her around the banana station. Is that girl taking a selfie? She is!
“Run faster,” I tell her.
“I’m trying!” she replies. Obviously not. If you have enough energy for a selfie, you are not doing it right.
Mile 10
What does that mile marker say? I don’t remember passing eight or nine. Watch that marker say nine. Ten?! WOOOOOOOO Almost there! [Dances] Now time for the split. I wonder if someone has ever ignored all the signs and accidentally run a full marathon when they signed up for the half. Naw, it’s near impossible for that to happen, but maybe, just maybe…
“You’re almost there!” A course volunteer shouts from the sideline. I want to punch her in the face. NEVER tell me I’m almost done. Why is this path so long?! I have no idea where the fuck I am. All I know is this bridge with the birds swirling around. Why are all these bird flying around the bridge? What if it’s like Hitchcock? Oh shit! I’m about to get murdered just like in The Birds!
Mile 11
Phew, that was a close one. I could use some Bonnie Tyler “Holding Out for a Hero” about now. That song is fun to run to. I’m beginning to notice these mile markers more and it’s starting to bum me out. I mean come on, two more miles? I have to run two more miles? I’m gonna die. My hip hurts. My knee hurts. Push past the pain! I’m almost there. Now would be a good time for a Disney soundtrack.
Mile 12
Hello Autzen! Where the flip have you been?! One more mile. This is going to be the longest mile ever. I want to become one of those Olympic runners just so that I could finish faster, but I won’t take the chocolate milk at the end. I don’t need no stinking chocolate milk.
I wonder what the marathon medals look like. I hope they are cooler than last year’s.
Mile 13
Hayward Field! Quick, look cool. You’re just running, no big deal. You do this sort of thing all the time. In fact, you’re so chill, let’s sprint to the end of the finish line. I must finish at an even time.
Two hours, 40 minutes exactly! Perfect. It may be a little slow, but it’s even. Sweet medal, wait, where are the ROTC guys? I thought they handed out the medals.
“Are you okay?” A woman asked me.
“I’m fine why?” I respond. Since “Chandelier” was drowning out all ambient noise, I didn’t hear what she said next. All I know is that it had something to do with my back. “I’m fine.” I tell her. (Later I found out that I had scratched my back and it was bleeding.)
Chocolate milk, thank you Duck, I would love some chocolate milk.