I’m Gonna Run a Marathon in High Heels
In Summer of 2021, I’m gonna run a marathon in high heels! I could be the first non-binary, AMAB, trans feminine person to run a marathon in high heels (that I know of), and break the world record currently held by Christelle Doyhambehere in 2019, at just over 6 hours. Why am I doing such a thing? Adventure! It’s one of the wildest adventures I’ve ever thought of, and I rarely turn down an epic adventure. But, the deeper question to ask is, why do I need such an adventure, at this particular moment in life?
After 11 years of togetherness (7 years of legal togetherness), my partner and I have decided to get a divorce. Technically, we are getting a “dissolution”, because we don’t hate each other and this isn’t the stereotypical breakup you see on Netflix. Leaving the confines of marriage is the only way we can hope to save our friendship and create the possibility of a future where we can experience the depth of connection we seek with a partner. Now you’re probably wondering what our divorce has to do with me running a race in high heels… well, let me tell you a little story.
When I day dreamed about our wedding, I pictured her in a glamorous white dress; I pictured myself in the same way. I imagined all the moments she would have on “her big day”, while knowing I couldn’t have those moments for myself. I wouldn’t have flowers, a maid of honor to tell me how beautiful I was, and or an overly expensive wedding ring that commanded attention when I walked in the room. In the years to come, nobody was going to say, “oh what a pretty ring”. I couldn’t want those things. Not only was that so far outside the norms of our conservative surroundings, I didn’t want to negatively impact “her day”. I settled for a pink button up and a white blazer. I settled for finding other ways to challenge gender norms (which wasn’t very hard in farm-town America), and I settled for making sure she enjoyed her day, but I didn’t fully realize why I wasn’t fully enjoying my day. What I did then, is what I’ve grew to be an expert at: reducing myself. I suppressed my truth, my desires, out of love for her and the comfort of others. That might be the saddest thing I’ve ever written. Yet, it’s the truth, and we’ve known it a very long time.
We’ve tried to overcome it and move past it for the entirety of our marriage. But I had to accept the truth; I’m never gonna be a “manly” guy who drinks whiskey next to her on the tailgate of a pickup truck. I won’t command my way around a bar with deep bravado or a chiseled body. I won’t become the man of her dreams and fantasies. In fact, I’m gonna be a starry-eyed dreamer who runs a marathon in the most colorful getup and high heels that they can find.
I can choose any identity label I want, non-binary, non-conforming, queer, trans; it really doesn’t matter. As I move through the world, people see me as a feminine man. There is freedom in our decision to finally transition our relationship to friendship, and it’s fun to talk about running a marathon in heels. That doesn’t mean I am not deeply afraid of feeling alone and unlovable as a feminine man. I always thought I had it easier as a gender non-conforming person who already found love. I didn’t have to worry if others found me attractive. I knew finding love was not easy for non-binary folks and trans women, so the irony is that it’s not been easy at all. The details have just been different in the struggle.
I’m getting back to the run, I promise. Just a quick analogy. Our relationship progressed like a glacier, relentlessly forward at all costs, completely overlooking all the little shifts of irreversible damage happening along the way. Only in the rare moments of calving ice, did we even pause to wonder if damage was occurring. In the end, our marriage was nothing but a severely receded glacier. It’s impossible to continually suppress identities without also slowly erasing their existence. I have almost no self-love, a growing dependency on alcohol, and I’ll forever remember a spot along a bridge where I pondered making the pain go away. That might sound overly dramatic, but it’s my truth, and one of the most real truths I’ve ever written. I always told a myself that it would be okay, I’ll get through this phase, but at the same time, I knew it wasn’t no phase.
Okay, so why run a marathon in heels? I want to move through this world authentically. I want to find love again, and when I do, I need that person to know who I am from the beginning. I CANNOT go through all this again. I’m still trying to survive the first time. I recently read Jacob Tobia’s book called Sissy (go read that!), where they mention their story of running across the Brooklyn bridge in heels. Then, I googled running in high heels and saw that in 2019, Christelle Doyhambehere set the world record for a woman running a marathon in high heels in just over 6 hours. Before that, Irene Sewell did the same thing in 2017 in just over 7 hours. Those two phenomenal humans got world-wide media coverage! I’ve run marathons in under 4 hours, and a few months ago, I had just completed a 100 mile run in 37 hours. This is my opportunity. This is how to reignite the life I long imagined. Like Jacob Tobia and Alok Vaid-Menon, I could invite the world to meet me, the real me. There seemed no better way to send out the invitation than by running a marathon in high heels, in Alaska of all places.
My next immediate thought was what additional good can come from this (if I do gain some attention). Of course, I want to uplift non-binary and transfemme experiences; that’s always been a reason I felt compelled to live authentically and I hope any attention I gain will help do that. I‘ve always hoped that living my truth, which I could do more safely due to my white skin, would help foster a safer world for transwomen of color (who face severely more violence and oppression in this world). But, instead of raising money for an organization, as I had done in recent years, I realized this was another opportunity to be vulnerable, to be brave, and to share another part of identities that I hid throughout the years.
During my junior year of highschool, I broke the crown off a titanium implant of one of my front teeth. A couple years later, I broke the one next to it. There are many reasons my teeth were in poor health as a child (to the point of needing root canals). I basically never brushed my teeth, while eating tons of processed foods and sugar. Pair that with my family’s lack of access to dental insurance, and leads me to get 3 root canals at age 14 (first time I went to the dentist. Now, I love my parents. They are amazing this is not on them what so ever. It’s just my truth. It’s the cards I was dealt, and how I played the hand. I never got a permanent crown for the 3rd root canal, so eventually I just stopped chewing on that side of my mouth when the temporary filling deteriorated. For the past 13 years, I’ve been missing my front teeth. I remember using super glue in high school to put them back in before school (they fell out a lot) and I explored ways to make replacements in grad school. A few years ago, I discovered Care Credit and that allowed me to get rid of most the pain, when I got 9 teeth pulled in a 3 month period. Obviously that credit card got masked rather quickly. I’m finally gaining access to health insurance soon (2021), but insurance only helps a little. The annual maximum of coverage tends to be around only $1,500.
I have been missing my front teeth for more than half my life. Just before my 100-mile run earlier this year, the pain came back with a vengeance. There is no way I could run through the night while trying to consume sugary goo on only one side of my mouth. I didn’t have insurance but I was finally making good money again, so I paid out of pocket. That root canal and crown cost over $4,000. So, to get all of my teeth fixed, including my front two, I’m guessing it would take 10 times that, and my student loan debt is 3 times that, so what’s the harm in asking for help. Just like all the moments when society told me my non-binary gender, my femininity, was unworthy of love, the world said the same about my damaged smile. I know society “beauty standards” are the issue here, but i’m human, and it’s hard to feel beautiful without my two front teeth. All that being said, raising that much money is likely just as inconceivable as running a marathon in 3” high heels. But, the truth is that my reason for asking is more significant how much money I could be gifted. I must be willing to ask for help, and thereby feel worthy of accepting people’s support, if they choose to support me. I must feel worthy of being loved by others. I must feel worthy of love, if I ever hope to love myself. (Also, I watched Netflix’s “All Together Now”.) For this race, running a marathon in high heels, I will be using any funding I get through this Go Fund Me page to pay towards the restoration of my two front teeth back (and more more than I can afford).
What is my goal? Will I join Christelle and Irene as world-record holders for running a marathon in high heels? Will I again feel the privilege of smiling in a room full of people without compressing my lips to cover my missing teeth? In reality, it’s very likely that neither of those possibilities will come true. Why even try then? On race day, I want to stand at the starting line, and feel grounded in my truth. As a visceral depth of self-love washes over me, I will say, “I’ve already won”. I’ll stand there knowing that even if I still need 10 years of savings to afford the required dental work or if I don’t finish the race, I will have accomplished my truest childhood dream. I will have reconnected with the one person who can walk into my heart and light up all the darkened chambers. Me. I’ll stand at the starting line, in all my non-binary feminine glory, letting self-love shine through every gap in my smile, knowing what I’ve always known, “I am beautiful”.
