The year was 2010, 10 minutes into the Inaugural Monster Half Marathon I knew I was screwed. 25 mile per hour head winds, 30 degrees and the blisters on my feet from a previous half marathon were not healed yet. I was cold, I ached and I just wanted the race to be over the WHOLE TIME. If I had been alone I might have quit, but I wasn’t. I was with my training partner, and partner in life, Charlie. Him being there, by my side, meant finishing and not quitting.
Charlie has a a way of pushing me though to the end. And while I get angry with him when he tell me to get moving and suck it up, I know it’s for my own darn good. He pushes me, sometimes I even push him. We might bicker when we run and I might flash him the bird when I’m not in the mood to hear him tell me to “get my ass moving,” but I’m glad I have him. I wouldn’t want to cross the finish line with anyone else.