The Real Reward of Running

All but numb from the 47-degree chill along Carefree Highway outside Phoenix, Arizona, we welcomed the salubrious sun as it finally broke through the scattered morning clouds. Nervous chatter filled the cold air among the throng of runners, ranging the gamut from seasoned veterans to the anxious first-timers like me. Yes, December 5, 1978, had finally arrived with the starting gun about to fire for the beginning of the Fiesta Bowl Marathon. From the moment I had spotted that ad in the Arizona Republic's sports section in October for this athletic event, a compelling self-confidence began to well up within me that drew me to the challenge of entering and completing my first marathon. So, there I shivered, awaiting the bang to begin what would be one of the most cherished days of my life.

Suddenly, the shuffle began. Flopping shoes. Pulmonary panting. Light conversation. These are a few of the sounds one hears as committed runners begin a pilgrimage of the pavement that will eventually separate the 'I-hope-I-can's from the 'I-really-did-it's. Random thoughts race through the mind during such an undertaking...

"Oh, I shouldn't have eaten so much this morning!"

"I could have stayed in my warm bed this morning!"

"What in the world am I doing here?!"

"Are we there, yet?!"

However, they plod onward in search of the Holy Grail of personal achievement, something that a marathon can and does provide every finisher.

Eventually, the banter levels into a focused frame of mind. From this point on, everything is quite serious. The breath that had been used on laughing or chatting must now be saved for simply keeping the body moving. As the runners approach those double-digit miles, the physical task of forward motion demands all the lungs, legs, and heart can muster. But let us not leave out the overlooked component of the runner needed to finish: the mind. Countless times during such an athletic ordeal, I am (as are many others) severely tempted to slow to a walk, find a nice shade tree, and call it quits. Yet, we don't, even though our bodies ache, and we can't seem to gather another ounce of energy. It is as though the mind is a silent partner, whispering, "We can do this...don't give up...we got it." If ever there were evidence of mind over matter, or body, a marathon has to be it.

"Is that what I think it is?" I begin to ask myself. Faint sounds in the closing distance. Yes! The voices of supporters awaiting us at the finish line. No, I cannot see them, but I do hear them. Beyond the approaching woods lies that coveted finish line. Such sounds fuel the feet, strengthen the heart, and draw me on almost like a conveyer belt pulling its load along the way. Chemicals in my body I never knew I had become the tonic to hasten my weakened anatomy toward my reward.

Glancing up at the overhead clock at the finish line, I see 3:47:59 flash as I cross it. Not only had I finished my first marathon, but also I had finished in under what had been my goal of four hours. For years what I had read and heard about, I had now done. What a rush! What a feeling! What a reward! However, something far greater than completing a simple foot race emerged that day.

Jennifer, my wonderful wife and stalwart support, awaited me at the finish line; but with the crowd of finishers and well-wishers milling around, I had no idea where she was. Finally, I hobbled over on my weary legs to the announcer's stand to ask the speaker to page my wife. Minutes later, a picture froze in my mind that will forever remain there. As she approached me for the first time since the race had begun, a radiant smile broke across her face, a look that said, "You did it, dear, you really did it!" That moment will warm me all the days of my life. In Jennifer's admiring eyes, I could see that undertakings of courage and achievement are enjoyed most with those we love. The victory of that day was sweet but not a fraction as sweet if the dearest person in my life had not been there to share it. It was a day of celebration of what the human body can do, but it was much more a testimony of what the human spirit can do.