Yep. . .just finished running down Mt. Everest.
Alright, actually it is yours truly still bundled up at Mile 17 going through Animal Kingdom with the new ride -
Mt. Everest in the background.
One of us looks happy and the other is pondering the deep questions in
life like "Why did kamikazi pilots wear helmets?" or "How do they know it is
better tasting dog food?" or "How can you draw a blank?"
"Ms. Serious," knocking off another mile. Yes, this is the
same person who said she would. . . and I quote. . .NEVER run. "I
hate running!!!"
Today, she is preparing for marathons and ultramarathons.
Imagine what she would do if she actually liked it.
Smiling because it is OVER! 26.2 long miles.
First of many to come. . . .
Most people have a Guardian Angel.
Lisa has a guardian dinosaur.
Cold, windy if not colorful start in Epcot.
"Whose bright idea was this anyway?!"
Disney Marathon 2006:
David's Story
We know hell can freeze over and now we know that heaven gets frost too.
Marathon morning was in the low 30's with the wind chill factor in the 20's,
complete with a freshly painted coating of frost. Needless to say, our
marathon beginning was about staying warm more so than knocking down miles.
Somehow, the normally exciting fireworks in the beginning and the beautiful
lights of Epcot lacked their usual luster. In fact, the first 8 miles were
terrible. The cold and wind took most of the enjoyment away and given the
fact that Lisa and I were on different parts of the course, it was an
inauspicious beginning. The irony here is that Friday was in the mid 70's as
is today (Monday). We will have to work on our timing for next year.
Around mile 9, everything changed for the better. The sun started coming up
and burned off most of the fog that prevented us from seeing the grand sites
of Disney and Central FL and. . . . . . lo and behold, I turn to my right
and saw a pair of beautiful green eyes and accompanying big smile right next
to me. Despite 30,000 others, Lisa and I met up just outside of the Magic
Kingdom. All was right with the world. Now, let the race begin!
The run through the parks (Magic Kingdom and Animal Kingdom) was fantastic.
Somehow, everything looks different and has an aura about it that is hard to
put into words. The characters lining the way side along with the park
guests breath a dynamic energy into the experience. Though there are 30,000
runners, there seems to be only one consciousness, a powerful uplifting
source of determination. The miles in between are easy to put into words -
difficult, pounding and arduous are a few that quickly come to mind. They
are nondescript roads that are used only by employees and vendors, and now
marathoners.
However, there were some experiences that stood out. A dozen men and women
from the military were there cheering us on. It was both inspiring and
humbling. Individuals of varying rank, standing out in the cold and wind
since 5am, whose "regular" job is to put their lives on the line so people
like us can do things like run a marathon. . . . were cheering and
supporting us. Somehow, the pain of running is put into perspective very
quickly. In endurance events, there are lessons everywhere if you have eyes
that are open to them.
I also recall an email from my friend from
aikido, Carlos. His wife was scheduled to run the ½ marathon but had to
withdraw upon doctor's advice. Having a baby 4 months prior seems to be
incompatible with marathoning. Instead of letting the opportunity go to
waste, Carlos decided to run in her place. . . and finished. No training.
Just incentive. I am not sure if babies can feel pride but if they can, she
will certainly be beaming from ear to ear.
Mile 20, we both hit the wall. This is a horrible feeling to say the least.
Everything starts to hurt and you think you cannot go on anymore. And you
realize that are there 6.2 miles still remaining. Fortunately, Lisa's
parents were there with supplies. It picked up our glucose levels as well as
our spirits. (Thank you Dave and Connie!)
Finishing a marathon is a very strange event. You become an "emotional
octopus." On the one hand, you are thrilled to have completed this,
something so few people attempt. On the other hand, you are sad in a way
that this is over. On yet another hand, you met so many people along the way
and want to continue your new found friendships. On yet another hand. . .
hence the value of having 8 "hands."
Upon completion of a marathon, we usually get 2 questions. From those who
are active, they ask HOW. From those who are not active, they ask WHY. The
answer to both is very similar, on a continuum of sorts.
How? The great "secret" to success in marathons is the same great "secret"
to success in any venture in life -- there is no great secret. It is getting
out and doing the work, day after day. On the days you feel great, you run.
On the days you feel terrible, you run. The ones who get up at 6 or 7 on a
Saturday to do 10 or 15 miles, finish. If you are willing to show up
continually, you will achieve whatever it is you want be it in marathons,
business, relationships and everything else.
As for the WHY portion. . .it is equally simple. To have an experience. To
learn the secrets and to apply the learning and secrets and experiences to
all aspects of life. The finisher's T-shirt eventually fades. The medal ends
up collecting dust. The blisters heal but the memories and the lessons
reshape your entire life. The person who ends the race is never the one who
starts it.
The whole WHY question reminds me of the old Kung Fu TV show. Student
asks the master, "Why would you?"
Master replies, "Why would you not!"
Next year, we committed to the Goofy Challenge -- Saturday a 1/2
marathon and Sunday a full one. Why?
Why not!!
Why
I Run
Lisa's
Story
It's pitch black and the temperature outside is in the
20's with the wind chill factor. I'm supposed to be
getting in line to start the Disney 2006 Marathon, but
instead I sit in my heated car. I wait until the very
last minute knowing how quickly the cold will seep
into my body. At approximately 5:25 am. I turn off
the ignition and head out to brave the weather. There
are already thousands of people in there assigned
corrals waiting for the 6:00 am start. I slip into
the middle of my corral where I hope to be buffered
from the cold by the sea of people. For the next few
hours they will be my companions and supporters and I
will be theirs. We will never actually meet nor would
I recognize any of them, but we share a common
goal..... finishing, going the distance no matter
what. We begin moving toward the start line I know
there is no turning back. For better or for worse
there will be no end to this until 26.2 miles have
passed under my feet.
We start the run entering into Epcot and all I can
think about is the cold. My breath is all I can see
and I keep looking for the sun, but it is no where to
be seen. For the first 8 miles I know for sure I am
quitting, walking off this God forsaken road. I can't
feel my thighs because of the cold and the fog is so
thick that is causes a number of us to cough
continuously from the uncomfortable dampness that
sticks in our throats and lungs. I can't do this. I
don't want to be here because it is too uncomfortable.
I run by a table where they are giving out water and
PowerAde and all I'm thinking about is drinking a
steaming hot cup of cocoa. The grass on both sides of
the road is covered with frost, the sun still hasn't
come out, and I'm getting colder by the minute.
Finally I spot David running in front of me and I
sprint to catch up to him. I am no longer alone and
can forget the cold for a brief moment.
It took until about mile 12 for the sun to finally
break through the clouds and fog. I start to feel
the warmth from the first few rays. The strong
reaction that I have to something so simple and what
some might say is ordinary takes me by surprise. On
this day the sunshine is a gift. I sense the warmth
on my body as it slowly penetrates my skin. For the
first time I become deeply aware of how it feels, I
give thanks and it keeps me moving forward. I am
finally able to start shedding the layers of clothes
that I've kept on for so long and I feel lighter and
warmer. There are numbers of people that have come
out to cheer us on as we move along the road. There's
a group of military men and women and they are giving
us high fives and encouragement for running our
marathon. I try to thank them for their sacrifice and
show them my respect. I am humbled. My running has a
new meaning now and it becomes larger than the finish
line.
The miles ahead are filled with short exchanges of
encouragement both given and received. A kind word
can motivate me to run for another mile and forget
that my legs and feet are starting to ache. We pass
through Animal Kingdom and I know that we'll be coming
up to mile 19 where my parents will be waiting with
some needed supplies. As I pass through the mile
marker I can not see them and my spirits temporarily
sink. My running slows down. I figure they couldn't
get through the road blocks so I won't see them now
until the finish. As I move to the next water stop I
see my dad at the far end of the table. He smiles
and urges us to run as he becomes our temporary pacer
down to where my mom is waiting. They help us get a
bottle of coke and some M&M's, our magic fuel for the
next six miles. It isn't until we start down the road
after this short break that I realize something warm
and wet is soaking my right sock and I think to myself
"are my feet bleeding?" Could that be why they hurt
so much? Having never experienced blisters from any
of my training runs it never even crossed my mind that
they were a possibility. It didn't matter now anyway,
I just have to work through the pain and keep putting
one foot in front of the other.
The last six miles take David and me an eternity to
complete. I can no longer run and walking is an
effort because my feet are in agony. David encourages
me through the rough spots and I know that if he has
to, he would carry me to the finish line. We make our
way through MGM and then back into Epcot for the long
mile around the world showcase. Then just before the
turn to the finish line I can hear a gospel choir
singing. I start to cry, not just for the beauty of
the music but also the realization that this is the
end of my first marathon. I remember David saying to
me that you can run another one or two hundred others,
but there is only one first marathon and mine was
ending. It is bitter sweet to cross the finish line.
David and I cross together and we hug and laugh. This
was David's second marathon and our first together.
It was an incredible journey.
. .
