In February of 1999, my dad suffered a
heart attack. Fortunately, he was
otherwise in good health, swimming 5 days a week might have saved his life.
However, while he was in the hospital, I realized I was looking at
myself in another 20 years if I didn’t change my life style..
Being born and raised in
So as my dad was in the hospital,
going through his ordeal, I decided I’d change my lifestyle.
I’d run the marathon..
When I first made
this announcement, of course everybody thought I was nuts.
What makes this overweight, middle aged
guy (with shaky knees) think he can run 26 miles?
No way.
Only two people didn’t laugh at me.
First, my oldest daughter Cara.
To her, I guess I could do anything, so why should anybody doubt it?
Second, Carol, from
our fitness center. She’d
run
She gave me a couple of interesting
stats. She told me that of all the
people that start a marathon, something like 80% of them will finish it.
Hmmm, sounds a little high.
Sure, but here’s what really matters – of all the people that start
training for a marathon, less than 40% of them will start it.
Ahh, there’s the key – if you can
discipline yourself to make it through the training, then you can find a way
to finish!
In hindsight, I’m the poster boy for
demonstrating that anybody can run a marathon.
Seriously, if I could do it, then anybody can do it.
When I first started training, I could
barely run a single mile, and when I finished my knees hurt so badly that I
had trouble walking for 2 days afterwards. No
problem, says Carol, here are some leg exercises to strengthen your knees..
Little by little, I persevered.
Two friends that also were going to run
with me dropped out of the training, but I stuck with it.
For each and every pain and injury I
suffered, Carol would provide sage advice and encouragement.
On the day of the marathon, a workmate
joined me. Matt
Jucius, a new hire, young, in shape, and didn’t
know any better (“A marathon? Sounds
like fun, sure, I’ll join you!”).
Matt, of course, finished without any problems.
For me, the day was hell.
My first marathon turns out to have
been one of the most brutal Boston Marathons in recent history.
A 20 mph headwind the entire way, which turned into a sea breeze just
after the halfway point. I had
started with a long sleeve shirt on over my running shirt, but tied it around
my waist early, as it wasn’t needed. At
the half way point I handed it off to a friend who was
spectating, big mistake. One
mile later the headwind turned frigid, and I was not a happy camper.
At mile 14 I hit my wall.
Lovely.
12 miles to go, even starting fresh that’s more
than 99% of the human race can manage, and I’m out of energy.
I don’t remember much of those 12
miles, except that they were a cold, frigid, hell.
I stumbled the entire way, but stuck
with it. I am a stubborn
bastard, I don’t like to give up.
As I rounded the final bend, my eyes
filled with tears. I’d run through
hell and made it, now I’d see my dad and family, and cross the finish line!
Whoo
hoo! I
looked off towards the right of the course, where they were supposed to be,
but I could see no sign of them. I
stumbled along, now looking to the left and right of the course, still no sign
of them. As I crossed the finish line,
I remember thinking “how the hell am I going to get home?”.
Ha!
Turns out they were hanging out a bit after the finish line, having
come out in the wrong place they weren’t able to backtrack along the route.
We had our emotional greeting, and
went to dinner afterwards. I was
bruised and had a couple of wicked blisters on my toes, but otherwise I was on
the top of the world.
Having achieved that goal, I swore I’d
never do it again..