Sunday morning was the running of the Germantown Half Marathon and Mayor's Cup 5k. This half served as one of my training races as I prepped for my first marathon in 2008. I struggled to stumble across the line in 1:29:38, and hurt for several days after. My dad did, however, point out to me, I had only been seriously running again for about 4 months at that point, so it was nothing to shrug at. That is a great memory, and now thanks to this race, I will have many more.
It was a perfect storm of a morning. My in laws had volunteered to watch the boys on Saturday night, which freed me up to serve water at an aide station along the route, I had to be there at 6:45, which ment a 5:30 wake up call. Monica was able to get a well deserved morning ignoring the alarm, and I was able to give a little back. What exactly was I giving back to though...?
We must go back to about a month after the wreck when Jonathan Justley approached me and the pastor of my church about raising money for our family by taking donations for running the Germantown Half. I said it sounded great, but was humbled beyond belief. What do you say to people who are willing to ask money of others so that you might benefit? Not only that, but they are willing to punish themselves over 13.1 miles in order to do so.It still blows my mind to even consider their thoughtfulness.
When I learned of the amounts of money that were being raised, I was even more shocked. I have done nothing to deserve this. Seriously, nothing. I was just on a sidewalk, just going for a run,and yet God chose to bless my family and I through tragedy, and gave others a chance to serve. The Sunday before the race, I was scurrying trying to think of a way to thank everyone. Obviously, thank you notes were in order, but I wanted to do something more. To save all the long story of how I failed miserably at that, I found a new route. It turns out Fleet Feet, one of our local running stores, needed help at their aide station, positioned at roughly mile 1, and then 11 on the way back. I was in! I wanted to help, and I wanted to serve those that were doing so much for me.
One of those people was my father. This would be his second half marathon, and truthfully something he feared going into it. My dad is in his upper 50's, and for most people in general, the endurance events stop being run way before that. He is trying to get in to the New York City Marathon to do something similar, but this race was a sure thing. He committed to upping his effort in order to be ready to go come race day. It meant so much to me to see him working his tail off to get ready for this, and it still does as he continues to try and get ready for New York in November.
The morning was great. The temperature, for those of us not running, was perfect. At the Fleet Feet tent, coffee, mimosas, and bloody mary's were what we were NOT giving the runners, but they were still present. It was a great time with other runners and enthusiasts of the sport. Not to mention, these are the people, who every time I walk through the door to their store want to make sure I am doing okay, and always ask how recovery is going. Incredible people. Go buy shoes today from them!
I watched the faces of many nameless runners go by, and high fived and whooped and hollered for my friends as they passed (granted they were in the middle of about a mile long climb, so they needed all the encouragement they could get). As everyone went by at mile 11, I waited for my dad, and then hauled my tail across the street to get into my car, fight race traffic, and scurry, with my boot and one crutch, about a quarter of a mile to catch my dad finish. He crossed in right around 2:25:00 or so, right where he wanted to be. I was so proud, he had worked hard, and he had done it for me, what else could a son want?
At the end of the day, my emotions are still a little scattered. I am so thankful to the willingness of everyone who literally taxed themselves physically on my behalf. These were not age group award winners. Not one of them will ever go under 3 hours for the marathon. Most did not even run in High School, yet there they were, out there, pounding it for me. I am going to carry this with me as I continue to move forward. If people who came out and hurt for me, and ran 13.1, and it was not even something they do regularly, then there is not reason why I cannot obliterate my training when I get back, and be an inspiration for others as they have been for me. I am not going to make any bold or crazy statements, but I have things circling in my mind. I will not deny that I have been inspired by each and every one of them, and I will carry their efforts with me at each race I run, on every hard tempo, and along with me as I chase my many goals that I still plan on achieving.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
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