I won't forget

Sometimes insanity and amazing go hand-in-hand.

This weekend was certainly one of those times.

I took part in the Texas Independence Relay, which is a 200-mile race that starts in Gonzales and ends at the San Jacinto Monument in Houston. There are 40 total legs and 12 people to each team, which makes for a lot of running and a lot of great memories. I don't care how trite this sounds: it really was one of the greatest weekends ever.

Fists up!

I learned so many things this weekend, one of them being how much your body can handle and how much you can actually do even when you think you can't. During my first leg of the race, I really wanted to stop. It was nearly 80 degrees, I was running all alone on a long road that I thought would never end, and my legs were tired from sitting in the Suburban (which we kept calling a van for some reason, so I will be calling it a van from here on out). I can't tell you how many negative thoughts were going through my mind, especially after I saw my first mile split and realized I had gone out way too fast. I knew the next miles wouldn't be as pretty.

But something made me keep going—my team was counting on me.

I was in a van with five guys (the other van had two girls and four guys), and my van was also my support crew during my runs to help if I needed water or anything else, such as Taylor Swift music at each mile. So, during the brutal temps and pain I was feeling in the first leg, I knew that each time my Garmin beeped another lap split, my trusty fellas would be alongside the road, dancing to T-Swizzle and offering me water and words of encouragement. I don't care how cheesy I sound, but it made my heart smile when the rest of me was frowning.

And I will never be able to hear "I Knew You Were Trouble" (the wrong song on repeat) without thinking of this memory. Ever.

After I finished that leg, I had no idea how I was supposed to run two more times in the hours to come and at the paces I needed to. There was no way—my body just wouldn't be able to handle it.

But it's amazing what can happen when you have others with you in times of trial.

After seeing my teammates run their legs, traveling alongside them in the vans, cheering with them at every exchange and along some of the legs, and just being in their constant presence for such a long period of time, I forgot that my body was hurt and that I wasn't getting any sleep. And, when it came time for me to run again, the negativity was something of the distant past, and all I could focus on was catching people. Each blinking light or reflective vest was just another person I needed to pass for my team.

And it didn't seem so hard anymore.

I love these people.

There's something special about the bond people form when they come together with one goal in mind, and the selflessness they give for each other is more than admirable. It's Becky giving me her jacket when I was shivering in the blistering winds waiting for my last leg to start; it's Goño being one of the most encouraging and energetic people I've ever met—even to a random woman running at Memorial Park; it's Craig not complaining once about all of the driving he had to do and saying, "Yes, of course" anytime anyone asked him for a favor; it's Logan finishing his amazingly fast runs and immediately caring about and asking how others were feeling right when he's finished...and offering to adjust everyone; it's Pfiffy laughing and smiling at everyone, then immediately entering beast mode and running until he puked (literally); it's Kiran cheering at every single stop, giving water to each of his teammates, not issuing one single complaint, and being my cameraman when needed; it's Disco running one of the strongest legs anyone could run on a foot he couldn't even walk on when the race finished; it's Josh not only strategically planning out the entire race but also stepping in to run a leg he wasn't supposed to when an obstacle presented itself; it's Liz driving, fighting off dogs, cheering, providing shower gel, coming up with genius ideas, and being a constant ball of energy that was highly contagious to everyone else; it's Ryan spending the weekend with 11 people he didn't know and running ridiculously fast paces each time he laced up his shoes; it's Evan doing whatever he was asked and saying, "Hey, I'm here for you" and actually meaning it—like when he paid for my $5 donation to Brazos High; it's the Dolls 'n Towel Boyz showing the world that winning doesn't come in the form of self ambition but instead in the form of sacrificing yourself for the love of your teammates.

I never would have thought that a weekend involving a Porta Potty count that is too ridiculously high to keep track of, a mere 20-30 minutes of "sleep" on a gym floor, and not remember what a real shower felt like or when the last time I brushed my teeth was would be something I would voluntarily do, but I can honestly say I would do it again in a heartbeat. These are the memories that make life truly special, and these are the people who make it all worth it.

Truth be told, my teammates are not only some of the most amazing runners and people you will ever meet, but they are all absolutely insane.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.