7 Days to the Race... An itroduction

Today I sit here 7 days to my race.  A race in which I choose to honor the woman who came before me.  My mother.  Her last marathon was a race to the finish.  Her goal; to qualify for and run Boston Marathon.  But she never got there.  Cancer would slowly diminish her body. It would take away her last breath. And though she was lost in the body, her soul lives on and is a testament of faith and endurance to run the race to which she was called heavenward.  

I have not run a marathon in 20 years.  My last marathon, though I "trained", I went it alone, I never ran more than 15 miles before race day, and needless to say, I was a lot younger.  This time, I am trained.  I spent the last 22 weeks preparing for this day.  I had a wonderful training group and two fantastic coaches named Omar and Jamie.  They could not have created or provided a more perfect opportunity.  So here I am. Nervous, A little worried that it isn't going to work. And, my desire? To qualify for Boston.

Why would I ever want to do that?  Well, in 1983 at the Twin Cities second annual marathon I did.  I ran 3:25:57.  I placed 3rd in the women 19 and under group.  I thought I had missed the qualifying time and was so disappointed.  Then just last year I realized that I HAD qualified. I wanted to try again.  But this time would be different.  You see ,my sisters Liana, Maile, and I along with our children and our husbands race often.  But we carry a special person on that run.  MOM  Each of us takes a turn wearing her road ID bracelet.  And Mom joins our runs.  So this Boston hope isn't about me.  Its about her.  My goal is to qualify so that I can bring her to Boston in 2017.  But that isn't all.  My sister Liana will be running it, and my Niece Kelby is training to do the same.  We hope to run it together.

So as I worry a little, and  reflect on this run, I remember that my mom- Joyce wrote a piece called Twenty-Six things I Learned Running a Marathon.  She wrote this piece just after her final attempt to qualify.  I add, she ran that race with Cancer.  Yes, Cancer.  And I worry.  To honor her, and to get myself ready for my run, I will be adding a section of her piece each day.  Along with her writing, will by my thoughts for the day.  So with that I begin the introductory post to a Journey of ReJoycing.  Something my mother did Regardless of the circumstance.

Joyce's Piece. 

Twenty six things I learned running a marathon By Joyce Wrostek

Before I begin this blow by blow, mile by mile account of possibly the greatest physical challenge of my life I would like to regress to the beginning of my introduction to the insane world of marathon running.

Back in 1974 at the age of 31 and pregnant with what I first suspected to be a tumor; I was less than thrilled about having a third child in my thirties.  That wasn’t my biggest concern however; in the six years since the birth of my second child I had failed to drop the twenty plus pounds I had gained.

Of course there is an upside to being pregnant, no one really cares that you’re carrying a few extra pounds.  I knew I couldn’t entertain that thought too long or I would have a bigger challenge to face at the end of the nine months than two A.M. feedings.

I prayed for God to give me an exercise program that wouldn’t exceed my budget, provide the time, and take care of my two children while I was getting a head start on losing the baby fat.  I’m not sure what I expected Him to do since I had obviously failed to care for the past six years. Even when we neglect the simplest things God has his eye on us and I think He was laughing as He prepared to deliver the answer to my prayer. 

One day, being a working mom; I had safely deposited my two children in school and was on my way to work.  I was just about to exit the freeway when my car started to sputter, my forgotten stop on the way home the day before registered on the gas gage. I gripped the wheel tightly, held my breath and hoped I could coast out of the line of traffic before the choking car gasped its last fumes.  Whew, I successfully made it and was even able to turn onto a side street where the car could safely remain until the end of the workday.

I secured the car and walked the rest of the way to work.  At the end of the day I got a friend to help me collect enough gas to get me to the nearest station where I took care of the neglected duty from the day before.  The following morning, driving toward work it struck me that if I parked my car in the same spot as I had yesterday I could save a seven dollar parking fee.  While I was walking the distance to work I counted off the steps and discovered it was one whole mile.  After work I walked back to my car and proceeded to drive home.

I was proud of myself for having walked two miles that day and I was especially thrilled to have saved the parking money.  Some health guru on the radio interrupted my self-adulation with a fitness tip for the day.  He declared, “For an easier delivery, and help keep from gaining excess weight, pregnant women should walk two miles a day.”  He may have said a lot more than that but I zeroed in on those words.

“Perfect!” I thought…then wow it hit me.  God had answered my prayer; I couldn’t think of what was more elating my new found, successful, personal, perfect exercise program or the fact that I had actually gotten a doable answer to my prayer plus a bonus (the saved parking money).  I spent the rest of the trip home laughing, praising, and thanking God.

Faithfully I kept up the daily walking until the baby came, then since I had stopped working I scheduled the two mile walk into my daily routine by getting up at 5:00 A.M.  One day several months later my brother-in-law came for a week-long visit and asked me one morning where I went so early each day.  I proudly told him of my disciplined walking habit.  Being a man of few words, “Why don’t you run?” he asked.

I told him heatedly in my defense, “ I can’t run, I hate running, I really don’t think I want to run, why would I run when walking is sufficient and effective?!”  Actually his question annoyed me because I was expecting kudos for my outstanding effort.

He was undaunted and said, “Running takes less time and it increases your cardio capacity.  If you can walk you can run. ” You really should be running.” He added, and left the room before I could respond.

Later in the day I asked Mr. Smarty Pants why I should be running when I nearly died from oxygen deprivation after one city block.  He gave me a simple formula of just running a little bit each time I went out to walk, then add a little more each day until I could run the whole two miles. Simple enough and probably possible but I wasn’t totally convinced.

I gave it a shot and by the time he returned for another visit in a few months I proudly announced that not only could I run two miles but I had extended it to a total of three mile every morning.  He didn’t seem impressed when he said, “Well, if you can run three miles a day, that’s 18 miles a week…you could run marathon.”

I didn’t have to asks, the same formula for turning a two mile walk into a three mile run would work for extending three miles into twenty six point two but who would ever aspire to that?  I decided to accept the challenge and that is how marathon running began for me.  

Stay tuned for tomorrow's piece.