My Voice: A Memoir (26 page)

And then there was the Queensboro Bridge. Mile fifteen. Everybody
talks about that moment, and it’s real. It’s where you hit the wall. I’m already pacing slower than I had hoped. I was really trying to be in the six-hour range; that would be my goal on the perfect day. My right knee started to hurt really bad as soon as I got on the bridge. Even stepping on it was painful, and it was beginning to swell.

I was looking for something that I could tie around my knee, to put some sort of compression on the swelling. As people get hot, they start throwing their scarves, hats, gloves off. There are clothes everywhere on the bridge. I found a piece of material—it could have been from a headband or a piece of ripped T-shirt or something—and tied it around my knee, trying to make some kind of MacGyver bandage.

This is what I was afraid of. This is the pain. I want to stop right now
.

It was so windy that the flaps of my hood were clapping against my head, and I began praying:
Please, God, just get me through this. I’m going to need help here. Please, just carry me the rest of the way. Carry me the rest of the way.

And then, when I most needed it, I would find the inspiration. I’d see a few other struggling women out there running, determined to make it. And I’d run alongside them for a few minutes and we’d give each other energy. I know it sounds kind of kooky, but there was really something powerful about looking around you and finding inspiration. It does push you.

And that’s how I got through the marathon, literally. The people in the city, the crowds cheering and holding signs, and the marathon volunteers on the side giving out Gatorade. I really took energy from the people in the streets to get me through.

I make it through Queens and the Upper East Side, and then in the Bronx it was quieter. I was dragging my right leg at this point, like skipping, to try to get the pressure off that leg.

After that it got a little blurry for me. It was an out-of-body type of
push toward the end. The next thing I remember was seeing my girlfriend Liane out there waiting for me on the sidelines as the route wound back into Manhattan.

“Liane!” I gasped. I was so happy to see her. She ran alongside me for a little bit, all the way up to the entrance of Central Park. Liane veered off and I was on my own again and in a lot of pain. As close as I was, I could stop.

I know it’s only a mile or so left. But it’s still fucking one more mile, and I’m going to die right now. I’m not going to make it.

As much as I wanted to keep going, I couldn’t stop from visualizing my body caving in and falling to my knees, and then lying on the ground. I could feel my knees buckling and I could see it—knee, knee, elbow, elbow, on my stomach, on the ground, on the fucking side of Central Park. My body was pulling me down, as in, “Lie down, bitch.” Like it was literally giving out and pulling me down.

The crowd is thinning out because now it’s late, it’s freezing, and it’s getting dark. I remember that moment vividly because there was a lady on the sidelines. She was so sweet and so direct. She spoke right to me. “Don’t do it, baby! I know it hurts, but you’re almost there. I’m so proud of you. You almost got this.”

That lady made me cry. It was like she could read me. She saw that I was close to the end but was ready to give up. And she gave me a little breath, a little energy. From there I pushed toward the finish line, lifted up by that lady and the grace of God and everyone else along the way.

People like that are amazing to me. Who was that woman? What was she doing there? Does she live in the neighborhood? Did she know that she was going to make a difference for somebody?

As I was coming toward the end, I heard some friends from work call out my name and I waved to them. Then I saw Niko a few feet before the finish line. I had to stop and give him a hug. My mom was
with him, calling out, “I’m so proud of you!” And Nikki was there with flowers.

I saw the finish line; it was right there. As I approached, with whatever energy I had left, I raised my arms in the air in celebration and hobbled through the finish line. I was overwhelmed, exhausted, proud. I had done it.

Of course, the rest of the team had finished more than an hour and a half before me, but they waited. We did it! And we raised more than a hundred thousand dollars!

The point is, you never know what you can do until you really put yourself out there and try. Do it. Whatever it is. Challenge yourself. If you can’t imagine the finish line, the first step is to just show up. And don’t worry about what everyone else is doing. Run your own race.

I’m not saying it will always be easy. Things haven’t always been easy for me, but I worked hard and I put myself out there. I’ve accomplished things that I never dreamed were possible. I’ve seen a lot and learned a lot, and I’m proud that I’ve been true to myself the whole way. In that, I found the power of my
voice.

Nothing inspires me more than working with people who are great at what they do. This book was possible because of Ray Garcia, the publisher of Celebra. Your passion and vision helped me believe I could write this book. Jen Schuster . . . editor, writer, motivator, problem solver. You are my literary guardian angel! Thank you for caring so much. And thank you to Mim Rivas and Laura Checkoway for helping me to find the words. 

Thank you to my team . . . Roc Nation for always having my back: Desiree Perez, Nelly Ortiz, Ayanna Wilks, Nadja Rangel, and Kelly Cornut. To the people who help me cross my “t’s” and dot my “i’s”—Margarita Sullivan, Chantal Felice, Honey German, Dan Shulman at Tavel & Shulman, Natasha Bolouki and Ryan Hayden at UTA, Ryan Robichaud and Evan Jehle at Focus Financial Partners, and Jo Mignano at Krupp Kommunications.

To Miss Info and Chaka Pilgrim, who I trusted enough to share this book with before the rest of the world, thank you for being so dope and for caring enough to help me get this right.

I would need an entire separate book to thank all of the amazing people who have supported and encouraged me along the way. My family and friends especially. Please just know that I take none of you for granted.

Mom, everything that I am is inspired by you. If you don’t believe
me, read the book but please skip Chapter 1 and portions of Chapter 8. Love you.

Oronde, my love, my partner, and my best friend. Thank you for having my back and believing in me the way you do. You make me a very happy girl. Christian, you’ve brought so much joy into my life and I love you with all my heart. Niko, I love you more than words and my proudest accomplishment in life is being your
mom!!

L to R: 1. My mom at eighteen. She’s pregnant with me in this photo. 2. Me and my father at the beach. 3. This is the only photo I have of me with both of my parents. (My aunt Melanie is next to my mom.) 4. Me and my mom uptown leaving Uelo’s apartment. 5. Me and my mom.

L to R: 1. My early attempts at breakdancing. It wasn’t as easy as it looked! 2. I was always hurting myself and breaking bones. 3. With my best friend, Nikki, on my birthday. Who let me wear these pigtails? 4. Nikki and me hanging out at Coney Island, Brooklyn. 5. Lunch room chronicles: headphones in place with no intention of going to class.

L to R: 1. With Uelo, who came to visit while I was living in Florida with my aunt Cindy. 2. Looking at family pictures with Uelo in our apartment on 71st Street. 3. Uelo at his 100th birthday. His last name was Roca, so I got him this hat with his name on it. 4. With my grandparents, my mom and my aunt Zunia.

L to R: 1. The Hot 97 van I drove around for years to events, with Big Dennis. 2. Freddie Colon, legendary New York radio personality. 3. In Astoria, Queens, across the street from my first apartment. 4. The day I met A Tribe Called Quest for the first time in the studio, along with Deneen and Eduardo, who worked in the office with me. 5. Me and Mary J. Blige back in the day. 6&7. Some of my first interviews were with artists like Channel Live and the Lost Boyz.

L to R: 1. “Ladies Night” with DJ Coco Chanel, DJ Jazzy Joyce, MC Lite, and Rosario Dawson. 2. One of those days in the studio. 3. New Year’s Eve at Extremes Nightclub in the Bronx. I was hosting. Nikki was holding me down. 4. At a party in New York with Q-Tip and Lauryn Hill. 5. The Notorious B.I.G. 6. The video shoot for “Heartbeat” with KRS-One and Redman. 7. The pre–Puerto Rican Day Parade festival on 116th Street, East Harlem.

L to R: 1. Interviewing Monica in the studio. 2. With Flex at a Hot 97 event in the Hamptons. 3. One of my first photo shoots. 4. Jay Z, Puffy, and Monie Love hanging out in the Hamptons. 5. Me and Q-Tip at Summer Jam, 1994. 6. Big Pun and Lance “Un” Rivera. Un was responsible for putting me on “Ladies Night.”