In one of the all time feel good movies ever, Cool Runnings, about the development of the Jamaican bobsled team, John Candy’s character says, “a gold metal is a beautiful thing, but if you’re not enough without it, you’ll never be enough with it.” I so had hopes of running up Michigan Avenue toward the finish line on Columbus Avenue winding down 26.2 miles in a dead sprint. Let me clarify here—what a dead sprint would be for a 10-minute miler! I actually claimed Psalm 119:116 as my Bible verse during my training—do not let my hopes be dashed. However, that scenario was not to be. This would not be a gold metal day.

Yes, I was one of those 35,000 runners that actually decided to participate in that event on October 7 this year. However, I knew in advance I was getting into territory where I had never been before.

I am an Eastern time zone resident, so I awoke very early that Sunday morning. My husband Chris had joined me for the weekend. We immediately turned on the weather only to find out that at 5 a.m. Chicago time it was already 76 degrees. Ouch. I had trained throughout the summer, and believed I had trained well, but I had not trained in the blazing sun. That was the one thing that now actually terrified me about my decision to remain in the field.

I am the president of our Rotary Club in Holland, MI. I chose to use the marathon as an opportunity to raise funds for the global humanitarian aid projects and youth leadership projects our club sponsors. My goal was to be a $500 per mile woman. I wanted to raise $13,100 for our charities budget. So, that morning I felt a great responsibility to the many people who contributed $4/mile, or $104. Some had made commitments much greater than that—one of them being my mother. Mothers will do those kinds of things–that’s what makes them mothers.

Here’s my story of the event: Yes, there were water problems. The first two aid stations were absolute crisis by the time I reached them. My chip activated at the start line approximately 13 minutes after the official gun. When I reached those aid stations there was no water to be had. Now, I don’t believe that literally. What I believe is that there just were not enough volunteers to keep the stock of what they had replenished for the runners passing by. Just before mile six, my husband and son were positioned to cheer me on. My words to them were, “this will not be pretty.” By the time I reached mile eight, I knew this was going to be the endurance test of my life. I knew then I was in a place I had never been before. I truly don’t remember much of what happened after that. My goal was just to stay hydrated, keep out of the sun and walk much more than I planned. I had all I could do to stay focused on those three things. I wanted most to enjoy the crowds of people cheering us on, and I simply could not. That was what I remembered most from my marathon experience in Chicago the year before. That by far is my greatest disappointment. By mile 17 I was contemplating how I would actually make it to the finish.

The saviors along the way were the residents with hoses, misters, bottles of water and Gatorade. From mile 8 to mile 17 these were my real heroes. Early on water was a scarcity, now it was in abundance. There was too much water. It was everywhere, and ultimately it was my demise. My feet were soaked. I knew it wouldn’t be long before the blisters appeared. So at mile 21, I was actually relieved to hear that the race was officially called. The announcement came from a large fire truck that sprayed even more water over the entire street.

I decided to stay on the course and walk the remaining 5 miles to the finish line. Along the way I met up with some participants with very mixed emotions. A man from Australia turned a color of white I had not seen before when I told him the race was over. He kept asking, “what does that mean?” A first time marathoner was going to demand her registration fee be returned. But for the most part, everyone agreed that the race officials had done the right thing. Especially when we heard the decision was made because there were just no more ambulances. Many, like me who were the walking wounded, just wanted to reach the finish line without further casualties.

The 2007 Chicago Marathon was a grueling test of endurance and patience. But, I walked away with a message I want to share. It’s very simple, but powerful. The Lord above “rained” down on me with these words: “ My child, I love you and I have mercy on you. I give you My grace and My guidance. Now go and do likewise.” By the Lord’s grace, I will be able to understand these words for my life, and will be able to demonstrate these actions toward others faithfully.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, October 31st, 2007 at 3:53 pm and is filed under Articles.