"Will this EVER end?" This was one of the only thoughts in my head the last 3 miles of the Maui Marathon. Whoever says the last couple miles are run on pure adrenaline is lying. It takes much more. In my experience, I had the voice of Liz Duncan—my dear friend who died in a tragic car accident last year—in my head simultaneously cheering for me and calling me a pansy if the thought of walking entered my mind. I was, after all, running 26.2 miles in memory and great honor of her and I had already determined that walking was unacceptable. And amidst the spreading fire in my hip joints, the crowbar-to-knee-cap sensation with every step, the excessive cramping everywhere, and despite the immense desire to poo with no port-o-potty in sight, I had no intention of letting either of us down.

Further, I held unofficial rock-star status with my support team cruising along side of me in our mini-van with music blaring. Many thanks to my six buddies and boyfriend who all took turns running sections with me, and injecting energy with their unique motivating styles and off-key versions of "Eye of the Tiger."

With a 5:30 a.m. start time, I was hitting the coast line around mile 6 as the sun started to rise over the ocean. There was an impressive number of Japanese competitors in this race and I would have to give a good amount of respect to the Japanese women runners. During our 4-mile uphill section, an older Japanese woman passed me, then stopped mid-hill to take a disposable camera out of her fanny pack and snap a photo of the view. And then passed me again. All stereotypes aside, WHO stops on an uphill section of a marathon? Kudos to that woman—and to all of us who accomplished our goals in that marathon.

And kudos to all women everywhere who set goals and work to achieve them. I thank Liz for her inspiration and for the constant reminder of how precious life is.