Thoughts on Pink Tape

I have bright pink racing stripes on my ass.

When I dropped trou a cautious few inches to show the kids, their eyes widened impressively. “Wow, Mom, will that help you win?” asked my youngest.

When it comes to a marathon, I won’t be winning anything except a victory over my mental barriers and gut-level fears, but the racing stripes do look cool, I admit. I have to take them off today, as the KT tape unravels at the ends, leaving a sticky, unattractive residue which tends to pull on my jeans. When I told the physical therapist I might have a hard time reapplying the tape on Saturday she asked if I had a friend or relative who might help. The thought of Abby or Carol volunteering to “stripe” me made me choke on my Emergen C, but perhaps my mother might help out. She’s a veteran of taping tushies.

The pink racing stripes serve as a much more entertaining memento from Tuesday’s trip to the PT office than do the bruises and aches where the dry needles prodded and provoked my knotted muscles. The dry needles have helped me a great deal but they are not comfortable. In fact, they put the exclamation point on the masochistic element of my training, which has been a blend of self-indulgent hedonism and crazy self-punishment.

The discipline of the journey did provide rewards, though, far beyond my skinny jeans’ fitting so well. I’ve met talented, knowledgeable people, received wonderful support and this week the assurance of lots of prayers for Sunday’s race. I plan to spend a lot of time praying during the 4 + hours I am treading Chicago’s asphalt; offering prayers not only for finishing safe and whole but for friends, family members, world situations, and thanks for such cool opportunities.

I wish I had permanent pink racing stripes for my contemplative self; they could kick me in the metaphorical ass and bring the same discipline to my spiritual practices that I had in the marathon training. (So weird to have the words “ass” and “spiritual” in the same sentence). But for this weekend, the tape will provide some muscle stimulus for my body and the marathon itself – an emotional climax to this six-month journey – will provide a lengthy and welcome opportunity to ask for help and to give thanks. No matter how I finish, I have definitely won.