Amazing Sunday

As part of my journey; my journey as a friend, and as a woman, I have become quite involved in running.  About eight years ago I was finally successful in my goal to quit smoking.  I had grown up in a home where both of my parents smoked and I had started the awful habit at a very young age.  I had tried many times to quit with little longterm success, but I had finally kicked the habit…for good.

After I had quit I decided that I needed a constant motivation, something to “keep me quit”.  Although I had never been an athlete in school , first because of exercise-induced-asthma and then because of smoking, I had always enjoyed walking for exercise.  But, I had always had a desire to run, like the runners I would see on our great country roads, or the amazing people who would take on challenging competitions.  And I was always glued to the T.V. for The Boston Marathon.  So after a couple of months free of cigarettes, I decided that I would take on the challenge.

I started “running” in April of 2005.  Running is a very loose description of what I was actually doing! It was so hard!  I would run a couple of telephone poles, huffing and puffing, sweat pouring and red-faced, and then walk a couple of telephone poles.  I couldn’t believe how difficult it was to breathe!! Something we take for granted as being easy, was so difficult for me when I tried to run.  But I continued.  I wouldn’t quit,  because I am extremely stubborn!

After each of these excruciating “runs”, I would return home and my husband would ask me how it went.  And each time I would reply that it was horrible and I hated it!  After 6 agonizing weeks, I was finally able to run a two-mile loop without stopping.  Victory!

As part of my challenge I had signed myself up to do a charity run in our community in August of that same year.  A 4.5 mile run with the first mile all downhill and the second mile all uphill, with a sharp incline in the middle.  On the day of the run, I awoke feeling nervous and excited.  This is what I had been waiting and training for! It was also extremely warm and humid at 8am!

I woke my husband before I left and asked him, unable to hide the anxiety in my voice, “Do you think I will be the only “non” runner at this race?”  He assured me that I wouldn’t be alone in my experience level.  My son said, excitedly, “Maybe you will win!”  I laughed and explained that I most definitely would not win.  He couldn’t understand why I would want to run if I wasn’t going to win.  I explained that it was a personal goal for myself to just do it, that I would be happy to just accomplish what I had set out to do.  They wished me well and told me they would be waiting at the finish line.

When I arrived at the race, my fears were realized.  They were ALL real runners.  They had the fancy runners clothes, and runners bodies.  Some were even running to get warmed up for the race!! And there I was; chubby me, with my tank top and shorts and ipod.  Just when I was about to return to my car, defeated, I saw a woman I know who runs marathons.  She came up to me, gave me a big hug, and told me how glad she was that I was there.  I really needed that, probably more than she will ever know.

When the race began and I started running with the pack, my heart swelled.  I belonged with these people, doing this race.  I ran in the heat and humidity, huffing and puffing,  pouring sweat, red-faced, and walking on the steepest part of the hill.  When I reached the 3.5 mile mark it brought me into the center of our little town.  The street was lined with people, some familiar faces and some I didn’t know.  All cheering and smiling, for me! And there were my boys, cheering the loudest.  As I finished that last mile, which looped back around to the center, I was aware that I was almost alone, last of the pack, but I didn’t care.

As I ran for the finish line, my 5-year-old son ran up to meet me.  He smiled and yelled, “MOM!! YOU’RE NOT LAST!”

Ever since that first race I have been running.  On my own, in groups and at events.  I am a runner.  I have made a lot of great friends and maybe even encouraged a few to run.  My husband and son are both starting to run, too.  And I am so proud of them and glad to share these experiences with them  I’ve pushed myself beyond my wildest imagination and continue to do so.  And as my son told a fellow runner today, “My Mom has even run 12 miles, once.”

We were all watching last monday when the tragedy occurred at the finish of The Boston Marathon.  A running friend was there, 1 1/2 miles from the finish, her mom waiting for her at the end.  Both were, blessedly, unharmed.  This senseless act of violence has had a profound affect on me and my family.  How could something so horrible happen at an event where strength, devotion, love, perseverance, joy and exhilaration are the foundation?  And where do we go from here?

Today a  local group of runners set up a solidarity run, in honor of The Boston Marathon victims. It was a 4.5 mile run or walk, to show our love and support for our fellow runners.  It was an amazing turnout and a very emotional and meaningful run for me. I am so thankful to be a part of it.  To show my respect and love for those who were harmed.  To show pride, perseverance and strength against those who wish to break our spirit.  For the “real” runners, the “non” runners and everyone in-between.  We are a unique and amazing group of people who choose to spend our free time, and money, laboring uphill and down, enduring heat and cold, pouring sweat, beating our fastest time and enjoying the pride and exhilaration that comes at the end of every hard-won run.  You will not break us, WE ARE RUNNERS.

It’s like I told my son last week when he was struggling through his first 5K.  THIS is living.  THIS is how you know you are alive. Making your body work and knowing that it was made to do this.  THIS is camaraderie.  THIS is why we run.