My first running inspiration was my brother, Alan, who joined the high school cross country team, when I was around 5 or 6 years old. One of his teammates was local high school running legend, Dan Dillon. New England, in the 1970’s, was pretty inspiring, in general, for an aspiring runner. I was fascinated with the Boston Marathon, and idolized Bill Rodgers. I was thrilled with Joan Benoit’s out of nowhere win in ‘79. I marveled at the Hoyts, and I was glued to the television for the Salazar/Beardsley “Duel in the Sun.”
Unfortunately, even with all of that inspiration swirling around me, I had nobody to guide me, and didn‘t even think of actually running, myself, until I was 12 or 13. I managed to get my hands on an issue of Runner’s World, and read through it, religiously, pouring over every detail of every article and ad. I registered for a 5 mile race, and just did it, without any clue of what I was doing. I have no idea what my time was (although I know it was dismal,) but I took home an age group trophy. It didn’t really matter to me, that I was most likely the only one in my age group. I signed myself up for a race, I ran it, and I got an award. Magic!
There was no girls’ cross country team, my freshman year of high school. I joined the track team, in the spring, where I tried various events, sucking at all of them. Fall of sophomore year, however, there were a handful of girls who showed interest in running cross country, so they let us form a “team.” We shared practices, meets, and the coach with the boys’ team. The boys’ team was very good, with a Western Mass champion, so they were the real focus, for the coach. I didn’t care, though. I was ecstatic, just to be there. I knew I didn’t have any real talent. I just loved running the trails and being part of it all.
My utter lack of talent did lead me to give it up, shortly thereafter, however. I didn’t really see the point to continuing to pursue something I didn’t think I could ever be good at. I lacked an understanding of running just for the sheer enjoyment of it. Somewhere along the way, I convinced myself that I had “bad knees,” and couldn’t run.
Fast forwarding twenty-plus years, to late August, 2009, my friend Wendy issued a challenge. She wanted to train for the Disney Princess Half Marathon, and wanted to know if anyone would be willing to join her. Intrigued, I considered it, but decided I would walk, because of my “bad knees.” My initial 2 - 3 mile attempts were promising, in that I could easily stay below the 16 minute/mile pacing requirement. I was comfortably within the 14 minute range.
After a few weeks, however, I started getting bored with walking, and just wanted to finish faster, so I thought I’d throw in a little jogging, to speed things up. It was disheartening to discover I couldn’t even jog a full block, without getting completely winded. I didn’t give up, though. I decided I would jog a half a block, and then walk a block and a half, or two, until I could muster another little jog.
And I kept doing it. I didn’t knock myself out. Just a little bit more, each time I went out, 2-3 times per week. Within a month, I was stunned to realize that I was jogging more than walking! I realized that I never had bad knees - just bad training! After two months, though, I hit a major setback - bronchitis. I live in fear of bronchitis, because, when I get it, it tends to linger for up to 5 weeks, and running with bronchitis is a big no-no.
Around this time, I started developing delusions of grandeur. I started thinking about marathons. Specifically, my mind traveled back to those years of breathlessly watching the Boston Marathon, and how I would dream of running in it, someday, never truly believing that was something I could ever accomplish, without God-given talent.
In a fit of utter lunacy, I registered for the 26.2 with Donna - National Marathon to Finish Breast Cancer, a local race that runs right through my neighborhood training route. Going from no running at all, as of August, 2009, to run/walking a half marathon in March 2010, was intimidating, but well within the realm of possibility. Going from no running at all, as of August, 2009, to run/walking a FULL marathon in February, 2010, a mere two weeks before the Princess Half, (with a forced break in training due to bronchitis,) defied all logic.
As it turned out, though, there was an inadvertent touch of logic in it. After recovering from my bronchitis, I had a hard time getting my sorry butt back into training. I developed a mental block, regarding running seven miles. My usual route was four miles. I worked my long run up to six miles, and got stuck there. For several weeks, my long run kept repeating at six miles. I just couldn’t wrap my mind around running seven!
By this point, it was December, and my commitment started flagging. Before I knew it, I had gone two weeks without running, when Todd started gently nudging me, “You know, you spent that money on registering for a marathon that is coming up in eight weeks…”
It was exactly the kick in the butt that I needed. If I hadn’t registered for the full marathon, I believe that I would have continued to blow off my training, and eventually just given up. Instead, I got out there, powered my way through seven miles, and wondered what the hell my problem was, since it wasn’t really any harder than the six miles that I kept running, over and over again.
In the weeks leading up to the marathon, I worked my way up to a 14 mile long run. I had convinced myself that I could just run the first half, and then walk the second half, and still easily maintain the 16 minute required pace. I recognized, though, that my ego would not let me stop running, and I would, in all likelihood, continue pushing myself to the point of injury. I didn’t want to risk not being able to run the Princess Half with Wendy, so I dropped my 26.2 with Donna registration from the full to the half marathon, three weeks before the race.
The 26.2 with Donna Half Marathon was an amazing first race experience. It completely spoiled me, for all races that followed. I marveled at the huge expo, with loads of freebies. We came home with bags and bags full of stuff! The morning of the race, I arrived way too early at the runners’ village, but it gave me time to soak in the race atmosphere, and enjoy the free coffee, fruit, and muffins, and eavesdrop on other runners‘ conversations.
I made the classic rookie mistake of getting swept up in the adrenaline of the start, and took off at a much faster pace than I had trained for. By mile 6, I knew I was in big trouble. I added in more walk breaks, and drew strength from the amazing spectators, the sea of pink, and all the messages on my fellow racers’ shirts. I’ll never forget the shirt on a young boy - he had to be 13 years old, with the message that he was running for his mom, with her birth and death dates listed, as he ran past me. It brought tears to my eyes and power to my legs. I thought, “no pain I am going to experience in this race can compare to what that child has been through.”
I saw Todd and the kids, as I crossed the finish line. Todd had tears in his eyes, and the kids were pumped with the excitement of the race. As he handed Charlotte over the barrier to me, in the finishers’ chute, he told me, with certainty, “I’m running this next year.“ That’s the power of it. After experiencing the race, Todd started training, and he did, in fact, complete the 26.2 with Donna Half Marathon, this past February. I was a little sad that I wasn’t there, at the finish line, for his first half (I was struggling my way through the full, thanks to yet another overly ambitious mistake -too many races in too short time with too little recovery,) but next year, I will run along side him, as he runs his first full marathon. And the kids can’t wait until they turn 13, so that they can run it, too!
As long as we can, we’ll be running with Donna, every year. It will always be my favorite race and continuing inspiration.
And, yes, I did successfully complete the Princess Half, two weeks later. Learning from my mistakes, I started the race at an easy pace, worked my way up to a proper race pace, and finished strong. I’m forever grateful to Wendy, for starting me on this path, which has changed my life, and my family, for the better!
Coming soon(ish) -Part 2: Inspiring Myself, and Others, Along the Way
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