I want the world to know who they lost on Saturday. I want to scream it till my throat bleeds and I can no longer utter a sound. I want to post banners, posters, to build altars, towers, a permanent tribute to where her last breath was taken so that everyone will know and that no one can forget. Because the world needs to know. Because I cannot contain the emotional energy coursing through my body that keeps me up at night, stifles my hunger, and causes me to bawl my eyes out even when I feel like I can't cry anymore. The tears don't stop. Even when I collapse to the floor in exhaustion, the tears don't stop. I selfishly demand with every fiber of my physical body and mind and soul that my friend be brought back to us because it hurts so much with her gone.
Marisela Echeverria was my friend. A daughter, a sister, an aunt, my mentor, my teammate. We would have known each other for only a year in November, but in that short amount of time we had both seen each other at our best, our worst, in tears and laughter, and beer. Lots of beer. You couldn't help but be lifted by her energy. She had this positive outlook with a strong determination and a killer smile. Ms. Kakimi is what she'd call me. Ms. Kakimi. I can hear her saying it now. I always looked forward to seeing her. She was intelligent, clever, witty, hilarious, and adorable. I'd be lying if I said I didn't have a crush on her for a while. You couldn't help but feel good when you were with her. She was giving. Selfless. There is not one person that I can think of on a team of almost 80 something people that didn't like Mari. She was loved. Deeply, truly, fully loved.
I first met Mari when I joined Ironteam and she called to introduce herself as my mentor. At our first bike practice there was a demonstration on how to properly sit on the bike. Realizing I had been doing it all wrong for a year I grabbed her and had her explain it to me one on one. She taught me how to ride, and later she would exclaim with some envy how fast I had become. Well Mari, you helped with that.
I lived in Burbank at the beginning of the season and wanted someone to ride with. Not knowing anyone else on the team yet she volunteered to ride in Griffith Park with me. Down we went on the river trail. I ran over a screw and with the sound of "dink dink dink dink" as the screw hit my frame the tire quickly went flat. She stopped and leaned her bike against a chain link fence and patiently waited and chatted with me while I switched out my tube. After a few moments we realized there was a fairly ugly dog with one eye on the other side of the fence in a very unkempt backyard. I cooed and baby talked to the dog while Mari kept her distance, she wasn't a fan of dogs. Maybe the dog could smell her indifference because it came over, lifted its leg, and proceeded to pee on her bike and I burst out laughing. Mari on the other hand wasn't that amused.
There was the night we went to the Women's Beer tasting at Eagle Rock Brewery. I had posted my interest in the event on Facebook with Dolly and Mari invited herself. If it was somebody else it'd probably be annoying but with Mari it was endearing. Of course we wanted to get to know our mentor more. We hadn't spent much time together outside of early morning trainings in spandex. It was nice to see each other in real clothes, in a real place, and sharing our common interest. That was when I realized we were more than teammates, but that we were friends.
Something that stood out and I will always remember about Mari was how her determination inspired me. She would run by and I'd ask her how she was, "Oh this hurts, and that hurts, and that." When ONE thing hurts I can't help but walk but she was able to run through the discomfort. She could push herself in a way I wished I could. She inspired me.
I was a risk of DNF'ing Vineman. The coaches had given me the option of switching to the half ironman and I was stuck with what I felt was a major decision. I talked with a few people who were given the same option and then I turned to Mari. After a swim practice I took her aside and we stood outside my car late into the night. I had wanted to get her opinion even though I knew what she was gonna say but I wanted to hear her say it. "Do it. Because you'll always wonder what if."
As I sat in my room last night, exhausted but not sleeping, my eyes fell on a small blue green gift bag. Filled with chalk and other knick knacks, this was Mari's gift of encouragement to me before my Ironman. Now it's a precious gift to remember her by.
At Vineman she was there during my swim. Swim, spit, choke, I popped out of the water and like a friendly otter in a kids film, up popped the face of my dear friend. "You can do this, you're doing great."
 |
| Mari chasing me down. |
After the race was done and gone she told me "I wish I had finished your second loop with you because I would not have let you stop. I would have told you to finish your last loop even with the DNF." This was her spirit. Get it done and don't let anything stop you.
 |
| Cracking jokes with Adam in the red skirt. |
I think it was one of her Canada training rides. From her bike she yelled to me, "Let's make a deal, I'll ride all the uphills, and you do the flats and downhills". From now on I know Mari will be riding those uphills with me and I will enjoy the speed of the flats and downhills enough for both of us.
I tried hard to remember the last time I saw her. I thought it was at the lunch to celebrate her birthday after her birthday run. Then I remembered on September 26 she came with me to the Baked Potato to watch a friend's jazz group. She had work to do and wasn't sure if she'd make it but when she heard my other friend cancelled she made sure she was there even though I reassured her I'd be fine watching it alone. It was a nice night. We didn't speak much except to talk about how good the jazz was. When she left we hugged and said we should do this more often. That was the last time.
So proud. Determined. Beautiful inside and out. An inspiration. Selfless. Someone who made an impact in my life even in the short time we knew each other. Gone too fucking soon. My friend I love you, I miss you, and I know you're watching over me.
