Well I finally did it.
After 35 years of running off and on, I got serious and ran my first
marathon at the age of 56. I had dreamt
of this for so long and thought that when I finally crossed that finish line,
after 9 months of training and 26.2 miles of blood sweat and tears, that I
would feel proud and exhilarated. “What
an accomplishment this will be. I’ll
really be something now!”were thoughts I can only now barely admit to having.
The reality was surprising and confusing. The minute I stepped across that finish line
I burst into tears, (ok, to be honest, “balling my eyes out” would be more
accurate). “What is this?” I was embarrassed and surprised by the
emotional outburst. The only other
feeling I could identify in the moment was a profound sense of humility that I
didn’t understand.
As I reflected upon my experience, I began to make sense of
my emotions, which continued to surface any time I talked or even thought about
my experience for some weeks after the race.
I came to understand that my humility came from the deep realization
that something I thought had been a mostly solitary journey, had involved so
many other people and that I could never claim sole credit for this
accomplishment. Also, that so many others
had been on their own solitary journeys and here we all were. We hadn’t been alone after all!
First there was my son’s girlfriend who started this whole
thing one Sunday afternoon in June, by casually asking; “so, who wants to run
the LA Marathon?” My son instantly
responded affirmatively. “They don’t
even know what they’re getting into” I thought, but I knew running a marathon
had been on my bucket list for many years, so I reluctantly agreed. Okayyy…..I’ll give it a try. We’ll see how far we get with this. And so it all began…
I didn’t even tell people my goal, because initially, I figured
I probably would never get anywhere near that distance and I didn’t want to be
viewed as a quitter. But as the weeks
passed I was adding ever-increasing miles to my runs. I was seeing and feeling my body change and I
began to dare to hope that I might actually be able to do this thing.
I began to meet and talk with other marathoners and their
encouragement spurned me on. My son and
his girlfriend and I commiserated on our every changing aches and pains. My son was especially good at researching the
various strains and injuries and the best ways to treat and work around them.
I would be running to benefit St Jude Children’s Research
Hospital, since my son’s girlfriend worked in their marketing department and
she had been instrumental in their connection with the marathon. It all took on special purpose and meaning
when I learned that the grandson of a dear friend was diagnosed with
leukemia. He was probably one of the
biggest motivators for me. I knew this
little guy was running his own endurance race and it made mine look like a walk
in the park. How could I tell him to
keep fighting if I gave up? I also owed
so much to the many people who donated in honor of this brave little boy. On race day I pinned his picture to my
singlet and his bright eyes and smile told me to keep going several times.
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| Ethan Fontes...my inspiration |
I was also deeply moved by the many hundreds of volunteers
and supporters who lined the route to hand out cups of water, or bananas and
those who cheered for hours, holding up signs or pieces of cardboard glopped
with Vaseline (to prevent chaffing… who’d a thunk ?).
The sympathetic medical aid worker who saran wrapped an ice
pack to my knee at mile 22 relieved the knife stabbing pain enough to keep me
in the race. Bless you nameless angle of
mercy!
The “carbo loading” homemade pasta and shrimp dinner my
husband so lovingly prepared for me the night before the race and his waiting
on me hand and foot during post-race recovery were testimony of the love and
support he had lent enduring my long, frequent absences for training runs… I
was not alone.
Rugged Independence
VS. Accepting Help
Why tell you this whole story? I think because something that God had been
speaking to me for a long time, really hit home. I had always embraced the rugged independence
that our American Culture loves to nurture.
That day, I humbly acknowledged that I hadn’t done this alone and that,
like it or not…I needed people. God
intended us to be, not dependant, in a weak or lazy way, but interdependent.
Galatians 6:2 says: “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this
way you will fulfill the law of Christ…”.
We are to come along side and help those who are
burdened. But a strange paradox appears
in scripture just 3 verses down.
Verse 5 says: “for each one should carry their own load”.
Ok,
so which is it? Do we help and allow
ourselves to be helped or do we carry our own load and make others do the same? When we look more closely at the language we
find the answer: The “burden” referred
to in verse 2 is an overwhelming burden that we are not able to carry. God calls us to help carry these for one
another, in the same way Christ’s work on the cross lifted the burden of sin
for us. We were unable to do anything
about our sin, but Christ was able to do what we could not.
The
“load” mentioned in verse 5 refers to our responsibility. When we are able to fulfill and carry the
responsibility for something, we are expected to do it. I was responsible to put on my running shoes
several times a week and head out the door and log my miles, but there were
times I was lonely, discouraged, hurting and ready to give up, and someone
would come along to encourage me. When I
think of all the volunteers who lined the route handing out water and Gatorade,
I was aware that I could have never carried enough liquid on me to get me through
the race. They did what I couldn’t do
for myself. I also don’t think I had the
heart to plug along for so many hours, but the cowbells and cheers and goofy
signs of bystanders kept me smiling and a trickle of energy flowed into my long
empty reserves that got me just a little bit further down the road.
Sometimes
we get hung up on receiving help from others…especially if we are a helper
ourselves. Needing help makes us feel
weak. What if I had refused to accept
those cups of water because I thought I needed to do this on my own without any
help? I most surely would have never
finished that race and probably would have ended up in the hospital being
treated for dehydration.
We Are Not Alone
I was also comforted and touched deeply that my suffering had
not been alone. I saw a commercial that
played during the televised coverage of the race of a young woman shuffling
painfully to her car. She gingerly eased
herself into the drivers seat and with a cascade of “ow ow ow ow ow” managed to buckled her seat
belt.
“Wait a minute…how did “they” know what I felt like after
the race…you mean, everybody feels
that way after running a marathon? I
thought I was the only one who hurt that much, I thought surely I was the only
one to be in so much pain”, I thought…
What a comfort to know that there were other’s who knew how
I felt. My pain was more common than I
had ever imagined.
When we are in pain, exhausted and discouraged, why do we
always think we are the only one who has felt that way? Let us draw strength from the “cloud of
witnesses” who have gone before us and compassionately nod their heads in
understanding.
In my practice I have often been asked why God allows them
to suffer more than they can seemingly take.
Sometimes my answer is: “so that you can learn to ask for and accept
help!” When you are overwhelmed, look
around you for the outstretched hands and the untapped resources that you have
been to proud to accept. God expresses himself in community. The Church was His idea because He didn’t just want us on our knees talking to Him,
but also expressing Him through the help and comfort we give one another.
If you realize there is no one around you, perhaps you have
cut yourself off from others for some reason.
With the help of a therapist you may be able to get to the bottom of
that problem and begin to form some meaningful relationships. All of us need to be part of a Church
Fellowship. I would strongly encourage
you to pick a church and attend, and not merely attend but get involved so that
you can not only make your needs known, but can be used by God to help and
comfort others.
Even as I complete this entry, I have a sense that I have
missed important lessons here. I want to
reach out right now and invite you to comment and add to what I have said. I love that this is unfinished, because….
I am not alone, and
neither are you!
