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Originally uploaded by kyleroth.

I am now an official member of a very small worldwide club; one that includes both olympic athletes and stay at home moms; one that requires sacrifice, determination, and a dose of insanity; one that forces you to look pain in the face and beat the hell out of it; one that takes 26.2 miles to join. It is quite possibly the greatest club on earth, and I am damn proud to finally be a part of it.

It only took 4:26:29, four amazing friends (and their families), two unbelievable family members, two supportive parents, one devoted husband, two proud children, 8 finger-sticks, and strength of will that I never knew I had.

Yesterday I ran the Akron Road Runner Marathon.My friends Sarah and Jen signed up to run the 2-person relay so there would be someone with me through the entire course (I told you that my friends are amazing). On top of that, my friend Julie planned to drive us to Akron, station herself at different points on the course to cheer me on, and run with me the last couple miles towards the finish (like I said…amazing). Jen, Sarah and I headed to Akron Friday afternoon to pick up our bibs at the expo. We came back to Cleveland for the requisite pasta-carbo-load dinner, and spent the night at Sarah’s so our 4:00 wake-up call wouldn’t affect everyone else in our lives. Another training partner and friend, Andrea, met us at 5:00 on Saturday morning, and Julie graciously drove all of us down to the race. My sugar was 201 when I woke up and 175 on the way to the race, so I wrote off the high readings to adrenaline, anxiety, and stress. I ate a Clif bar and kept my basal rate on (which is pretty high that time of the morning) thinking that the running would help keep my sugar in check. I was a dangerous 324 a half hour before the race start, but I wanted to avoid bolusing insulin because I didn’t want to risk a low on the course. I decided to run like I usually do with my basal rate decreased to 8% of it’s usual rate (I have been in the 200′s before a long run and can bring it down to about 100 by mile 5 or 6) and to check my sugar every 3 miles (after the first 5 miles).

At mile 3 I was feeling pretty uneasy because my arms and legs were tingling, a sign of the high blood glucose I was running with. I saw a sign in the distance that said “Go, Erika, Go,” and I said to Jen that it was cool that someone was cheering for another Erika. When we got closer I saw that the sign was actually for me, Kyle’s Aunt Jan and cousin Heidi were there screaming my name and it gave me a surge of strength. Jen’s husband, Ian, and his friend Paul greeted us with cheers at mile 5, which always helps to keep you going, especially since my sugar clocked in at 279. Ian was there again at mile 7, and this time he remembered the brand new camera that he and Jen bought in time for the race.

By mile 9 my sugar was 219, still not good, but at least it was going in the right direction. Right after that we saw Kyle and the kids, my mom and dad, and Jan and Heidi. They were yelling my name and waving signs. As soon as I saw them ahead, I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I wanted to run over to them and kiss the kids, but I knew that if I did the “ugly cry” would start and I’d be running through a veil of cloudy tears. Just thinking about when I would see them next made me want to run faster. Julie was right down the street from my cheering section and she jumped on the course for close to a mile. She kept telling me how great I was doing and that she was so proud…her words kept me going. She jumped off around mile 10 so she could drive to the relay exchange point. Jen and I wanted the steel drum band at mile 10 to run with us the rest of the way…unfortunately, they didn’t. At mile 12 I tested again and I was 212, which meant that 3 miles running hadn’t brought my sugar down at all…time for insulin. I turned my basal rate up to 100% and prayed that it would take effect.

Jen and I ran the towpath for the next 3 miles and it was so serene and beautiful. The leaves were changing, the ground was soft, and I was reminded why I love to run. I love how the sound of your breathing and the rhythmic pounding of your feet create a cadence that sounds so natural you almost forget it’s man-made. Jen was reading the inspirational signs that lined the course out loud, each one resonating inside of me with an urge to just keep running. At mile 15 I tested again…149…finally, I could eat something. I had one block and turned my basal rate down to avoid going low because I figured that once my sugar was in a safe range, it would be difficult to keep it up with all the mileage I was putting in. The relay exchange was next.

I thanked Jen for getting me through 15.5 miles (it was actually a lot of fun), and welcomed Sarah to join me for the last 10.7. Little did I know that the next 4 miles would be entirely uphill (well, I guess I knew, but the reality of it knocked me back a little). Sarah had me suck on some pretzels to get some salt back into my system (there was no way I could get them down though…thank goodness the salt is on the outside). She went through our usual jokes to make sure I was still thinking clearly, and kept reminding me that I owned the endless hill we were climbing. At mile 18 I had another block and tested at 175. I was feeling pretty good knowing that the top of the summit was coming up. As we came to the leveling out point at mile 19.5, I saw my cheering section again. This time Kade was jumping up and down with his sign that read, “Mommy, we love you and are very proud of you!”. I ran over and showed Kade the running skeleton tattoo that I put on to remind me of Mr. Bones. Seeing my mom and dad, Kyle, Kade and Liv was just what I needed because the second part of the race was soon to come. Those last 6 miles are something to reckon with.

At mile 21 I was 284, and I had a block before testing, which meant that I was only going to go higher so I knew that I couldn’t eat anything else the rest of the race. I had consumed only 100 calories to get me through a 26.2 mile run that would expend over 2,600 calories alone…the math didn’t look promising. I was starting to feel every step I took. Putting one foot in front of the other became increasingly difficult, but Sarah kept urging me to work through the pain. We were in single digit mileage, stuff we did nearly every day; quick, easy runs that we could do in our sleep (that was what she was telling me…it definitely didn’t feel that way). At mile 22 I got a cramp in my right quad, one that felt like a charlie horse times 1,000. I wanted to stop. I wanted to cry. I wanted someone to pick me up and carry me to the finish (or drive me). Sarah told me I had to choose. We could stop and stretch or we could run through it…hoping it would go away. At that point we entered the Stan Hywet gardens and there was a sign that said once the pain gets to a certain point, it can’t get any worse. That’s what I told myself when I gave birth to Kade and Liv. That was much more painful than this, so I knew I could push through it. I decided to keep running. There was a sign hanging that said “conquering diabetes” and a group of people from the company Novo Nordisk. Sarah yelled to them and told them to cheer because I was a type 1 diabetic. Needless to say, they were pretty surprised. We ran out of the gardens and Jen and Julie were there ready to take us through the next grueling 2 miles. Everything hurt, everything in me wanted to stop, but having them by my side kept me going. I couldn’t let them down. I had to run. I had to finish. They kept telling me how strong I was and I was trying to believe them. I just kept wishing that the race was over. Sarah’s sister, Rachel, called her cell phone and gave me a marathon pep talk that would make a sailor blush. It was just what I needed.

At the top of yet another hill at mile 24 we saw Kyle, but I didn’t recognize him until we were almost past. I didn’t even have the energy to wave. Jen and Julie said their good-byes and told me they would meet me at the finish. I wanted to grab them by their arms to keep them with me, but I knew they didn’t have a choice (they weren’t allowed to enter the finish zone). I tested again and was 192 with no hope of eating anything to get me to the finish. At least we started the downhill glide to mile 25, Sarah was telling everyone to cheer for me. She actually did that for the entire 10.7 miles she ran with me. There was a large hill in front of us and I was willing to do just about anything to avoid it so Sarah ran slightly in front of me and told me to imagine that she was pulling me by a string. It worked and I made it up the hill. It was the next hill right before the finish that nearly stopped me in my tracks. I silently cursed everything and anything I could think of while I ran up that thing. All I could do was tell myself that the finish was right around the corner. Luckily…it was.

Turning into the stadium, Sarah told me that I did it, I ran a marathon, and I could feel myself starting to shake (she also told me to smile so my mom wouldn’t freak out when she saw me run in). The cheering crowd in the stadium made all the pain go away. I felt like something lifted me up. I soaked in everything around me. I saw the finish line and I wanted to freeze time so that I could hang on to the moment just a little bit longer. All of these months of training, all of the aches and pains, all of the sacrifices Kyle and the kids made while I escaped for early morning runs, all of the laughter and tears I shared with my now life-long friends and training partners….all of it finally made sense. This was what it was all about. This is what Julie, Jen and Sarah felt like after running Cleveland. This is what it feels like to do the impossible. To tell you the truth…I’m looking forward to doing it again.

Oh, and my sugar was a perfect 114 at the end. Like Sarah said, it only took 26.2 miles to get it that way…damn diabetes.