As the announcer counted down to the start, it was impossible to ignore the excitement of the crowd. Everyone was working toward that same goal, everyone wanted the same thing- to finish the world renowned New York City Marathon. To run the five boroughs and cross the famous finish line we’ve watched thousands do year after year.
The gun went off and “New York, New York” rang from the speakers. Frank Sinatra’s familiar melody greeted everyone one of us to New York, and gave us the hope of accomplishing something great, in a city where greatness is the only option. I started to cross the Verrazano Bridge with every intention of letting my little town blues fade away.
I knew it was going to be a rough day when I wasn’t even a mile in and my side started cramping. I straightened my posture and ran through it trying to focus on everything this marathon had to offer.
Everything about New York is amazing, but the most out-standing part is the crowd, Three millions spectators lined the streets to offer support. With music and tremendous cheers from the sidewalks, you would think the New York City Marathon was an Olympic event and they were cheering for every single one of us to go for the Gold- the only opposing competition being the course itself with only one way to defeat it.
Barely half-way through I couldn’t imagine how I was going to make it another half. We crossed another bridge into Brooklyn, and as I crossed the half-way point I started hurting. This hadn’t happened until mile eighteen of my first marathon. I was preparing for the worst.
Anyone will tell you that the first half of a marathon is training, the second is heart. At that point, I started having a conversation with God and every Saint and Angel I could remember. I was praying- begging for the strength to get me to the finish line.
But even with my prayers, I kept feeling worse with every mile. For the first time during any of my runs I had to stop to walk several times. I had to stop to stretch. But I knew if I wanted a chance of finishing I had to keep running so my body didn’t stiffen. So my small breaks and moments of relief didn’t last long. I ran, I walked. With every step my knees felt like they could give out at any moment, and my legs seemed to somehow gain weight. One foot in front of the other was easier said than done.
I kept telling myself just make it through the five boroughs, make it to Manhattan and see how you feel. At least in Manhattan my family was waiting despite what happened. But once I got there, I knew it was close to the end- maybe too close to give up.
My new goal was to make it from one water station to the next so I could walk and drink. It was excruciating. But somehow, before I knew it. I saw the familiar atmosphere of Central Park. I was almost there.
But at mile twenty-four those prayers had slowly turned into me thinking I was dead, wishing I was dead. Every part of my body hurt and I had no idea how I made it this close but still had so far to go. Two point two miles seemed reasonable but when you’ve been running for twenty-four miles, taking a step feels like climbing Everest.
I started walking and I started crying. It was too much this time.
I was prepared to walk to the finish line.
Then I heard a voice on my right, “Hey you can’t stop now, you’re almost there. Only two miles left. It’s all in your head now.”
I glanced over and there was a man about to pass me.
I smiled and shook my head in despair, thinking about letting him run by me. But instead I surprised myself, I started to run with him. I learned his name is Pat, a 52 year old runner from Wisconsin.
I thought I’d just run a little while with him and stop if I needed, but he kept encouraging me to pick up the pace with him and everyone else we ran by that day.
“You can’t walk now. You want to be running when the cameras are on you. Gotta straighten those shoulders and look good."
"I don’t know about you but this is the last time I’m running this- And you made it this far, it's all in your head now." he repeated as he probably noticed the look of despair on my face.
I listened to him and agreed. This is a difficult marathon to get selected to run and I didn’t know if I would want to run it again or if I’d manage to get in again.
Pat proceeded to tell me this was the last marathon he was going to run and he wanted to do it in four hours and ten minutes.
At that point I knew I had to finish and I knew that I had to give whatever was left in me. We picked up the pace. Pat and I weren’t just running, we were passing people. As we made the last turn toward the finish line he said, “There it is, bleachers on both sides. Almost there!”
I smiled for the first time in miles.
And with the crowd cheering and the announcer yelling, “You’re going to do it! You’re going to complete the New York City Marathon!” we crossed the finish line that so many runners dream about doing.
Pat not only met his goal, he beat it and thanked me for helping him. And I finished the NYC Marathon knowing I gave everything I had. I also discovered a new person when I crossed that finish line, and I realized that my original prayers had been answered after all. God had given me the strength to finish that race before I even knew I had it. I was too tough to kill and too strong to give up. I only needed someone to remind me what I’m capable of doing. I will forever be grateful to Pat for being my Godsend on Sunday November 1, 2015.
The truth is whether you’re a marathon runner or not, know that nothing can stop you from accomplishing something- not even training improperly. What life comes down to is heart. What do you want and what are you willing to go through to get it. We all have the ability to achieve greatness and God gives us exactly what we need, even if we don’t always see it at first. Believe in yourself, because you are the only one standing in the way of what you want.
“It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.”
-Marianne Williamson
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