In the sport of running, the brain is the toughest competitor. Pushing yourself through the pain for just one more step, then two, then ten to get to the finish line can be the ultimate test of your mettle. No one will criticize you if you don’t fight just a little harder because there are many who never take up the challenge, but by far the worst disappointment is your own if you give up.
When my alarm went off at 6:10 a.m. on Sunday morning and I heard buckets of water pouring from the roof, the last thing I wanted to do was run a 5K. I had agreed to do the race with a group of friends even though I have an aversion to any distance running over 50 yards. The good cause and the free t-shirt are usually good motivators for me to do these things, but with a nor’easter slamming the city, there was a split second when not even the kids we were running for and what would become my 32nd sleeping t-shirt were enough to make me want to face the elements. Nevertheless, my friends and I persevered and made our way down to Hains Point.
The minute we stepped out of the car, we were soaked. The rain rushed at us sideways and the wind was searing. To our right, the Anacostia River lapped over the sidewalk in short bursts, reminding us that this was no passing storm. We considered collecting our goodie bags and heading straight to brunch, but we had gotten up at the crack of dawn for a good cause, so we made our way to the starting line.
As I was running, I thought about the men and women who would be running the Boston Marathon today and what drives them to press on no matter what the conditions. It takes something special to push your body to the brink and there’s a unique satisfaction that comes from testing your own limits. For 45 minutes, I walked more than I ran and had no grand delusions that I could ever include myself in the same class as these elite athletes, but for a split second as I was chugging towards the finish line, I understood the value of competing against yourself because sometimes you end up surprised by what you can do.
2 comments:
The longest race I ever ran (trained for, but failed to register in time for) was 10 miles .... it took me quite a long time to run that distance. I'm not sure I can imagine running a marathon, but I can imagine what a tremendous sense of accomplishment awaits you at the finish line. I think it is all about you, the road and your inner toughness. The people who run that distance (many who make better time per mile than my 1 mile!) have my admiration.
I would have turned my alarm off and told everyone you had heard the race was cancelled...
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