My Peace Corps Marathon

Our beloved Toby was put down yesterday. If you weren´t fortunate enough to know him he was my family´s loving, bed-hogging, cucumber-eating, clothes-wearing, big yellow lab. When I left for Peru I figured he wouldn´t make it 2 more years, as he was getting old, so I said goodbye with that in mind. But with only 9 months left I had begun to hope he´d be there when I got home. Alas, Mom called me with the news. Afterwards, I went walking to Cruzpata for an errand and took the long way home. As I was walking, contemplating how much I missed home, how much it has and will change before I finish my service, and reminding myself why I came, a thought came to me and I decided to sit down and write it out:

My 27 month service in Peace Corps it a lot like my 26.2 miles in the OC Marathon.

I started out both full of energy and anticipation wondering how I would feel, how I would do on this test of endurance. The first halves of both had ups and downs but flew by with relative ease. Starting the second 13 miles, the second year, is when stuff gets real, when I start feeling it. When I think I can´t go on, I get a burst of energy in the form of a pack of pink gel cubes or a successful completion of a project. When I get lonely on the streets of the OC, Aunt B appears or I site my cheer crew (Amy, Hailey, Linda, Melinda, and Jason love you guys); being lonely in the streets of Chocta, Mom calls, or I get a nice facebook message from a loved one.

During the marathon I remember feeling muscles ache that I never knew existed. As a PCV I´m feeling emotions that I never knew could be felt so strongly. I have moments of bliss like when that angel from heaven in an orange t-shirt uses his magical spray to cure my numb ass or when someone tells me how much they appreciate my presence here. My poor bowels suffer equally: in the marathon I wanted to poop so bad but couldn’t, and here I am pleasantly surprised if I have a solid poop or my stomach isn´t bloated and cramped.

Both undertakings are marked with milestones. Make it up that hill, just get to mile 20, almost at the next water station… Make it through rainy season, just 4 more months till Hailey and Linda come to see me. Without setting those little goals, 26 or 27 of anything is just too much.

 I have people counting on me to finish, as seen by their posters of encouragement (run lexi run) or an email saying they care. And even if I can´t see them, I feel their support as I stride on. I will gladly take advice from someone who has done it before or is doing it, but I am hesitant to take advice from someone who has never experienced this distinct escapade.

I´m trying new things like maybe this new stride won´t hurt so much and actually after 15 miles those weird packets of sweet concentrated calories are actually yummy or this is how you dig up potatoes and these fresh bull testicles in fact taste pretty good.

I am not alone but surrounded by people on the same journey. Some fall but we help them up. Some stop and leave before it´s over but we don´t blame them. Some move through with ease and other struggle to make it.  We all have different reasons for participating but more or less the same ultimate goal.

I am proud of myself each step of the way, I am impressing myself at every turn, and I am so happy to be partaking in this unique experience. I know when the undertaking is all over I will be pleased to say I did it but I don´t think I´ll be doing it again anytime soon… Never say never?