The Marathon
It was dark, cold and very rainy at 6:30 this morning, yet a few hundred of the 9000 participants started their 42 km trek for the Royal Victoria Marathon. About an hour into the race, I parked my car and started walking towards the oncoming runners. My very good friend was power walking the full marathon and I was there for support, to take or bring extra clothes and other necessary things that might come up over the next 5.5 hours.
A few months ago she had asked me to do it with her, but as life sometimes happens, I had other priorities and very quickly fell off any sort of training schedule. My friend, however, had a goal and wasn’t going to wait for me or anyone else to see it through.
When I first saw her, she was in good spirits despite spending 6 hours the day before preparing a selection of music on a new MP3 player only to find it would only play the radio today. I ran beside her (because she walks as fast as I run) for about 20 – 30 minutes then turned back towards my car. I took one soaking wet jacket of hers with me and headed home to change into new dry clothes before meeting her again. She continued – sometimes in a group, but often on her own along the course that wove alongside the ocean.
At our next rendezvous, I ran beside her for quite some time in heavy rains, only to find her GPS device that was helping her track her time, her pace and distance stop working just before we parted ways again. I took another jacket, and left her alone to carry on past an area where her family and others were to be cheering on the sidelines.
An hour or so later, at our next meeting, the main pack of runners was heading out, and my friend was on her way back to the finish. There were only a couple of the early starters heading in the home direction – and the few marathoners who run the race to win and almost defy physics at their stamina.
She had had cramps in her foot and her knee and quad on the one side were giving her a lot of pain. Her pace was slower, but her focus not deterred. I kept her company until I was close to my car again and sprinted back to get her some anti-inflammatories for her pain.
I raced back and found the front of the pack of runners well on their way towards the finish line now, but also at a point in the race where each step, each corner, each hill, each movement would be felt – in running language – this would be where people were likely to ‘hit the wall’.
In my own little race I had developed a small blister on my one foot, but had changed my socks and treated it with a bandage. When I saw my friend, she was bleeding. Apparently the dampness wasn’t helping the constant movement and rubbing of body against clothes. She took the anti-inflammatories and reasoned she would likely feel their comfort within a short while because her body was metabolizing so quickly.
We parted ways again and I drove to where I could get close the finish line (well I tried). I ran towards the finishing runners for what seemed a long way before seeing her again. When she finally rounded the corner, I choked back tears, I was so excited. Her stride was noticeably weaker, her pace considerably slower, yet she was very focused. She didn’t say much – she didn’t have to. I told her there were 3 more turns and she would see the crowds by the finish line. I didn’t want to run beside her this time – this was her race, she had just 1 km to go and was doing it as fast as she could. I knew she hurt, and I knew she would make it. I also knew that the excitement of the finish line was just ahead for her final steps.
I moved aside and watched her cross the finish line. At that point everything calmed (or so it seemed). The noise of the crowd stopped, my friend walked in slow motion to receive her medal and her recognition. She had completed in almost 15 minutes less time than expected.
I didn’t run the marathon today, but I sure got to share in what it means to finish the race; the hours of practice alone; the disappointments and frustrations of things not going as planned; the pain; the importance of positive encouragement; the focus – one step at a time, again and again and again – even when it hurts, even when you’re alone and others don’t join in, even when people pass you.
The marathon doesn’t have to be a road race and it doesn’t have to be anything physical. It’s something we decide to do, then stay focused through the other life events that come up, through the disappointments, the frustrations, the pain, the bad weather, and all the other challenges that work to steal our focus.
“Success is not judged by what you start, but by what you finish,” is a quote that sits on my desk as a constant reminder of the journey. Thank you my friend for finishing your race and for inspiring me and many others with your perseverance and amazing role model. You win the race, because you finished what you started!!
Copyright© 2000 - 2006 Tracy Piercy, CFP, Founder and President www.moneyminding.com Get your complimentary handbook: 12 Simple Steps for Finding Money at www.moneyminding.com
A few months ago she had asked me to do it with her, but as life sometimes happens, I had other priorities and very quickly fell off any sort of training schedule. My friend, however, had a goal and wasn’t going to wait for me or anyone else to see it through.
When I first saw her, she was in good spirits despite spending 6 hours the day before preparing a selection of music on a new MP3 player only to find it would only play the radio today. I ran beside her (because she walks as fast as I run) for about 20 – 30 minutes then turned back towards my car. I took one soaking wet jacket of hers with me and headed home to change into new dry clothes before meeting her again. She continued – sometimes in a group, but often on her own along the course that wove alongside the ocean.
At our next rendezvous, I ran beside her for quite some time in heavy rains, only to find her GPS device that was helping her track her time, her pace and distance stop working just before we parted ways again. I took another jacket, and left her alone to carry on past an area where her family and others were to be cheering on the sidelines.
An hour or so later, at our next meeting, the main pack of runners was heading out, and my friend was on her way back to the finish. There were only a couple of the early starters heading in the home direction – and the few marathoners who run the race to win and almost defy physics at their stamina.
She had had cramps in her foot and her knee and quad on the one side were giving her a lot of pain. Her pace was slower, but her focus not deterred. I kept her company until I was close to my car again and sprinted back to get her some anti-inflammatories for her pain.
I raced back and found the front of the pack of runners well on their way towards the finish line now, but also at a point in the race where each step, each corner, each hill, each movement would be felt – in running language – this would be where people were likely to ‘hit the wall’.
In my own little race I had developed a small blister on my one foot, but had changed my socks and treated it with a bandage. When I saw my friend, she was bleeding. Apparently the dampness wasn’t helping the constant movement and rubbing of body against clothes. She took the anti-inflammatories and reasoned she would likely feel their comfort within a short while because her body was metabolizing so quickly.
We parted ways again and I drove to where I could get close the finish line (well I tried). I ran towards the finishing runners for what seemed a long way before seeing her again. When she finally rounded the corner, I choked back tears, I was so excited. Her stride was noticeably weaker, her pace considerably slower, yet she was very focused. She didn’t say much – she didn’t have to. I told her there were 3 more turns and she would see the crowds by the finish line. I didn’t want to run beside her this time – this was her race, she had just 1 km to go and was doing it as fast as she could. I knew she hurt, and I knew she would make it. I also knew that the excitement of the finish line was just ahead for her final steps.
I moved aside and watched her cross the finish line. At that point everything calmed (or so it seemed). The noise of the crowd stopped, my friend walked in slow motion to receive her medal and her recognition. She had completed in almost 15 minutes less time than expected.
I didn’t run the marathon today, but I sure got to share in what it means to finish the race; the hours of practice alone; the disappointments and frustrations of things not going as planned; the pain; the importance of positive encouragement; the focus – one step at a time, again and again and again – even when it hurts, even when you’re alone and others don’t join in, even when people pass you.
The marathon doesn’t have to be a road race and it doesn’t have to be anything physical. It’s something we decide to do, then stay focused through the other life events that come up, through the disappointments, the frustrations, the pain, the bad weather, and all the other challenges that work to steal our focus.
“Success is not judged by what you start, but by what you finish,” is a quote that sits on my desk as a constant reminder of the journey. Thank you my friend for finishing your race and for inspiring me and many others with your perseverance and amazing role model. You win the race, because you finished what you started!!
Copyright© 2000 - 2006 Tracy Piercy, CFP, Founder and President www.moneyminding.com Get your complimentary handbook: 12 Simple Steps for Finding Money at www.moneyminding.com
posted by Tracy Piercy at 10:47 AM
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