In a little over a week, I am going to run the Boston Marathon—my first marathon. I am scared out of my mind. I know, counter intuitive for someone who has a website titled “Run Without Fear.” Let’s just say, I’m telling myself those words as often as I type them.
I am the most frightened of the hills in this race because I live outside of Chicago, Illinois, (a.k.a. The flat lands). It takes effort to even FIND a place to train with a hill or two. So to those of us in Suburban Illinois, a hill and a mountain are kind of the same thing.
As I have been visualizing my race I am most concerned about the incline called “Heartbreak Hill.” This aptly named gem happens around mile 21 when most of us folks will be pretty darn worn out from, well, RUNNING! Thinking about how I will handle this stage of the race conjured a metaphor for life.
I have the opportunity to run Boston because I am a member of the charity group Team 261 Fearless that works to empower women globally. Kathrine Switzer, the first woman who ran Boston and the founder of the organization, is celebrating the 50th anniversary of her first run. I will be lining up at the starting line with Kathrine and 100 other team members from all over the world on April 17th. All ages, skills, speeds and genders are represented on our team. We have been asked to describe our life changing stories and what running does for us so that we can help motivate others.
I started thinking. What are the life changing, soul strengthening stories I pull from when my physical strength during a long run feels depleted? The events that truly strengthened my soul aren’t necessarily the other races I finished or seeing my children win awards. Those things and other joyful moments happened in my life but pulling up my real grit means looking at the times I don’t really share at workouts or dinner parties. Times like making it through divorce at twenty-six with two small children and then having the courage to love and marry again. Helping a daughter through her eating disorder and depression, helping another daughter live with her chronic illness from the age of five, journeying with my husband through his cancer and death. And then, to move on as a widow. These events took strength, stamina and the courage to see (trust?) what was beyond the moment. These weren’t stand at the mountaintop and shout moments. These weren’t cross the finish line and flex your muscles times. But, they are the moments I look back on with pride, in a very strange way, because I made it; made a difference; made it—despite the heartbreak— to the top of the hill.
And then, I had to keep going.
Just like I must do at the Boston Marathon.
We all have Heartbreak Hills in our lives. Metaphorical and real, if you are a runner. Sometimes our friends can help us get to the top of them and sometimes we just must do it alone. Sometimes others are watching us go up the hill and other times no one knows we are on an incline. We can shout about our successes at the top or we might just take a deep breath and keep moving.
After all, we will have time to reflect on the climb after the finish line.
Where does the strength to finish a race or training run come from when your physical strength is depleted?