But this race is different. Much different. Not only will this be the most miles I have ever attempted to run at once, but I'm pretty sure the Stillwater Half Marathon is not exactly a "half-marathon for beginners." Of course, Stillwater brings me back to memory of where I proposed to my wife some 13 years ago. I remember taking her up these steep steps to an off-the-beaten path place along the bluffs, where on a very chilly February 1st I dropped to one knee and asked the best question I have ever asked in my life. Yes, Stillwater and I have some roots, and just as those bluffs didn't disappoint in providing an awesome view for me and my fiance, I am sure they won't disappoint on kicking my butt on a 13 mile run 5 days from now. To which I of course must say: Bring. It.
You see, I signed up for this ridiculous race not because I have a love for extra long-distance running per se (I like to run, but 13 miles is a bit excessive) but I signed up because I needed a new challenge. And I needed and wanted a new challenge because I realized that being able to do such things as half-marathons is a blessing. It's a blessing simply because I can (attempt) to run 13 miles. Both legs are in working order, I am relatively fit, I had the money for registering and above all, the guts and openness to try something new.
The difference about this race as opposed to so many other ones I've run is that my motivation goes deeper than just needing a goal to keep me running and exercising. My motivation has taken on a face (or several for that matter). I'm running because of my friend Carl Nowlin. I'm running because of my friend Tony Fair. I'm running because of my friend Chip Gunsten. I'm running because of all the people whose lives have inspired me to not take life for granted, but to give all, to take risks, to push and persevere and go for something bigger than yourself. I'm running because it's the least I can do with the life I have left in me. I'm running because many simply cannot do the same due to either disease or because their lives were cut short by circumstances outside of their choosing. So this one, while being an awesome motivator to keep me in shape over the last few months, means something much more to me.
With all this in mind, I've decided that when the hills come, I may have to walk. On most race days, my goal is to keep running, no matter what. I've ingrained myself to believe that in order to call the race a success, I will have to run the entire thing. But that's not how life is, is it? No, sometimes, when the going gets tough, you have to walk. You have to take baby steps. You have to give everything you've got to move a finger or blink an eye or squeeze a hand to communicate you're still there. So, I'm giving myself permission that when this race becomes painful or extremely challenging, I will let myself catch my breath and walk. I'll do so thinking of all the hard times Carl and his family now face as Carl lives with ALS. I'll think of the many times Tony, a full time Dad and seminary student, had to go to the hospital or get chemotherapy, enduring through the hardest of times, yet who always kept moving forward, a little bit at a time and usually with a smile and positive attitude about it all. I'll walk up those mountainous hills, calf muscles burning, oxygen depleted, thinking of scaling that Dead Sea mountainside with Chip, who was living with cancer but whose life of peak physical health and mental determination propelled his body upward even though his cells were continually staging an attack within to bring him down. I'll think of Dave Rundquist, who loved to run but was unable to at the end of his life that had been cut short by a brain tumor. I'll probably think of Louie Zamperini, too. Yes, I'll keep moving forward, a little bit at a time, trying to keep a positive attitude throughout it all. I don't expect a finish in record time, or to complete this with personal bests in my splits - but I will finish, and I will do so with the help of my great cloud of witnesses... hills and all. I don't know what to expect on race day other than a handful of painful stretches, beautiful views, adrenaline, joy and everything in between (rain is forecasted), but by the all sufficient grace of God, I'm going to finish this thing.
Run with me. I'm not asking you to physically run alongside me... I'm asking you to do something like this in honor or memory of your loved ones -living or otherwise - whose lives have inspired you. I'm asking you to face a never, to tackle a first, to do something crazy and ridiculous, not because you feel obligated, but because you can - because you have life in the tank. Do something fun with the reasoning "why not?" or "just because." And give - give of yourself in a way that costs you something. Give because so many continue to give life everything they've got through cancer, ALS, brain tumors and all. Give without being fazed by illness, tragedy or life circumstances that suddenly change. Give money to good causes and Go Fund Me charities, ministries, people and research that seek to make a positive difference in the world. Give time to your family and friends and do something you love, or something that scares you or boosts your energy - and do it all with gratitude for the life we've got - because if I learned anything in the last three years since Tony and Chip died as well as countless others who have expectantly or unexpectedly completed their mileage on earth, it's that life (and death) is unpredictable.
Therefore, there's no time like the present to live like we're truly alive. My first shot at a half marathon comes this Saturday, May 23rd at 8 am - your prayers, positive vibes and encouragement are welcome. Your friendship and love mean more than I can describe here - so may you know that above all, I'm running because I'm grateful.
