These Bit-ches Have Got Some Sole.


I’m a big believer in signs.

And while I’m a God-fearing girl, I’m also hugely interested in serendipity, synchronicity and the principles of The Secret. I love talking to psychics. One of my favorite words is energy. I believe you can be in or out of the flow, that the Universe DOES have your back and ultimately, karma can be soul-stirringly divine or a sneaky, mean  b*tch.

Here’s why this matters:

Saturday, six women and I participated in our first ever 75 mile relay race. (As a point of reference, we ran from Jefferson to Des Moines, Iowa.) And trust me, sh*t did not go to plan. In fact, I’d venture to say the first three hours of our day were loaded with what ifs, wtfs, what have we done, will we get out of this hole, who will help us and Christ almighty will this saga ever end?

Here’s how events unfolded:

By 4:00 a.m. all of us were up and taking care of all the things we runners ‘take care of’ before we leave the house.

By 5:00 a.m. we’re on the road to Jefferson.

By 6:20 a.m. we’re at the event registration table picking up our packet.

By 7:00 a.m. I run through the start line as the first runner of seven covering 17 legs.

By 7:02 a.m. the rest of the crew realizes the van is NOT going to start. (Oh f*.)

Note: from here on out, I’m going to tell the story from my perspective… based on where we were on the course, each of us had a different experience.

The first mile, I look around and realize I’m the 4th to last runner in the wave. And I can’t help but think, “What’s going on? I’m running 8:35s and these people are blasting me.”

So, I settle in and end up running next to an architect from Des Moines. We chat about her boyfriend, step kids, jobs, the economy… anything to keep our minds off the fact we’re dead stinkin’ last.

A humbling 4.8 miles later, I see Joann, runner No. 2 on my team, standing just inside the exchange point. Before I can hand her our timing chip, she grabs my wrist, tugs me around in a half circle, pushes me under the caution tape and shouts, “You’re going with them!” Confused, I watch her take off and I find myself standing with 6 other runners in Run Like the Winded jackets thinking, “This better not be ploy to kidnap my ass. If it is, it won’t take them long to realize I wasn’t worth the effort.”

Run like the winded

Leah and Jody from Run Like the Winded quickly fill me in that our van wouldn’t start and that the rest of my team is back at the start line trying to find a mechanic. My first thought was, “Oh f*.” My second was, “It’s 45 degrees out here and I’m going to freeze my ass off.”

So I call LeAnn, who is with the van and ask, “What happened?”

She quickly filled me in on the details and said, “We’re waiting for the mechanic to get here to see if the van can be fixed.”

Me: Any idea how long it will be?

LeAnn: No.

Me: Do we have any other options?

LeAnn: What do you mean?

Me: Well, can we find a driver for the day? A car service or something? Better yet, maybe we can Uber for the entire race?

LeAnn: I’ll see what I can do. We just sent runners 3 and 4 your way with the Race Director.

Me: Okay.

Then, in a soft whisper I say, “I’m not sure how good I feel about sending out more runners after this. We’re getting farther from you and the start line. We have no food or water. We’re going to freeze our asses off because we’re sweaty and it’s cold. If this goes on too much longer we may need to pack it in.”

Gravely, she agrees.

Runner 2 (Joann) comes in and runner 3 (Ashley) takes off. Three of us from The Sole Revolution team are packed into the Race Director’s truck. (Which is caked in dog hair, btw.) I’m starving, and every person around me seems to be shoving carbs into their mouths like addicts. It’s all I can do not to go gansta to get my share.

Somewhere in the middle of Ashley’s leg, LeAnn calls back with news we have a van. (No sh*t, right? I take this as a sign.) Turns out, a guy knew a guy knew a guy and for a small donation, we were able to borrow a 12-person transit van from Abundant Life Ministries Church in Jefferson. (Thanks Pastor Dave for believing we were on the up and up.)

Around 9:00 a.m., the first van gets towed to the repair shop. Seconds later, the church van, with the tank full, rolls up ready to take on 7 women, 3 coolers, 14 sandwiches, 8 bags of chips, 112 granola bars, 48 bottles of water and what’s left of our 75 mile race.

Church Van

It took an hour or two for everyone to get their head back in the game. (It’s a wild ride to believe your best laid plans have been derailed only to find you’re back on and expected to run.)

We spent the rest of the day rolling from exchange point to exchange point with no further incident. We ate Cheetos and Doritos, guzzled Powerade and chocolate milk, rang cowbells at every stop, tooted our horns, stretched our weary legs, fantasized about a hot shower and cheered each other on as the miles slowly rolled by.

At the end of the race, our entire team hopped back on the course to run the last three tenths of a mile together. The day before, I had requested that Ashley, (who is in the Air Force), bring us home with a bad ass, hell yeah, sisters in sole kind of cadence. Here’s what we chanted as we crossed the finish line:

I don’t know but I’ve been told

I don’t know but I’ve been told

These bit-ches have got some sole

These bit-ches have got some sole

Even though our van broke down

Even though our van broke down

We still ran the sh*t out of this town

We still ran the sh*t out of this town

And that’s exactly how it went down.



P.S. I took my first Wet Wipe bath this weekend standing half neked outside of the van. So, so terrible.

P.S.S. If you ever make it to Jefferson, thank Pastor Dave again for us. His generosity saved our weekend. To LeAnn, Joann, Leslie, Christy, Tammy and Ashley – today I salute your commitment to all things sole and I raise my glass to you for showing up, for running strong and for contributing your unique brand of bad ass to the weekend. And to our honorary team member Matt, thanks brother, you had our backs when we needed it most. 

P.S.S.S. Here’s the last selfie we took before we left the house on Sunday – proof of life. Haha! 

Proof of Life

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