19January2014
I
can't help but to reflect on my short running career, and how it has affected
my very short life thus far. Running has taken me to new places, built
relationships that I will never lose, and inspired me to be a better person.
It has given me so much, and I have neglected to give credit to what has become
a passion of mine.
I have been seriously running since 2010, though I was never really supposed to
run at all! In elementary school the doctor told me that I should not run
due to a heart condition. Can you imagine the embarrassment as I handed
the Phys ED teacher the doctor’s note? In junior high, I was cut from the
baseball team, and was told I should try track (apparently wearing converse all
stars to try outs was unacceptable). By the time I hit my junior
year in high school, I finally worked up the courage to join a sports team
again. Cross Country. I was not very good, but the an interest for
running had sparked. In my senior year, my brother passed away.
Depression had gotten the best of him. I began to run a lot more.
It was a way to vent, and a way to think more clearly. I had made the varsity
team, and joined track as well. I was never really that fast in either
sport though. I made many amazing friends who I still talk to, and a
spark of interest for running ignited into something much more.
Though I wasn't great, I never gave up. I kept running. Usually
just logging in some miles here and there. Often times, after a stressful
week in the Coast Guard, I would really appreciate a long run down the
Washington State beach, while the sun was setting. I began to connect
with the world around me during these runs, and took it all in while running
across the Golden Gate Bridge. In 2010, I went through a divorce. Long
story short, we were 22 years old, married for less than a year, living
across the country from any of our family, had a newborn, and military life had
put a strain on our relationship.
Looking back at it, I realize that I was doing to her, what Megan is now
doing to me. So she left. And I started running... I didn't stop.
In 2010 I also met a wonderful group called Back on My Feet. Their
mission was to use running to create self-sufficiency in the lives of those
experiencing homelessness. I began to volunteer with this group, and
quickly stepped up to become a team coach for one of the Baltimore based teams.
I can honestly credit my love for running to this group. Without them, I
would never have been so inspired to run, and I would never have run my first
marathon. I have made life long friends while volunteering for back on my
feet, and am so grateful for everything they have done. I think, at the
time I began volunteering I needed them just as much as they needed a
volunteer. I ran my first marathon with one of the residents, who at the
time was homeless. Halfway though, he told me, "This is a better
high than any drug!" We finished our marathon, and he has been one of my
best friends since.
They say that once you run a marathon, you become addicted. I would say
that is absolutely true. In the three years after my first marathon, I
ran six more. I immersed myself into the running world, completing mud
runs, 5ks, and half marathons. I would even run in some glow in the dark,
dance 5Ks! Any new place I traveled to, I made sure got a run in, just to
experience and appreciate the new atmosphere. I had connected with so
many wonderful people through running. In 2012 I propose to a lovely
lady at the Baltimore Running Festival. I carried the engagement ring for
26.2 miles, and managed to get down on a knee and hand it to her in front of
50,000 people. Short shorts and all! Luckily my dream woman said
yes (although she may have been delirious from her half marathon). All
was right in the world! Sure, there were times that I didn't reach a
goal, or PR, and there were times where I didn't feel like running, but I never
gave up, and kept moving forward. It had brought me so much happiness,
and now I had a beautiful faience to share this happiness with!
As 2013 rolled in, my father almost died, and underwent heart surgery. After
a cross-country flight on a Air force cargo jet, I rushed to hospital to see
him. I am an EMT and have served in the Coast Guard for six years.
I have seen death, and I have saved lives. I consider myself a pretty
emotionally strong man, but walking into that hospital room and seeing the
strongest man I knew helplessly laying on a bed, unconscious, with tubes
keeping him alive, made me lose it. That day changed me in many ways.
Days after his surgery, I ran into some trouble with the law, and spent a night
behind bars. I began to hate my job in the military, and I began to take
out my frustrations on the woman I loved the most. I kept running, but no
longer appreciated it anymore. I just did it to get away. To make
matters worse, my wife got orders to move to Charleston, South Carolina.
We now had less than six months to buy a house, get married, move to another
state, but in order to do this, I had to make a difficult decision. I had
to leave the military after just six years of actively serving. I decided
that my wife's love is more important than a career, and made the leap.
It was probably the best decision I have ever made, but I did not see it at the
time.
But I was still entering the darkest times I have ever been in. By June,
the wedding had come and gone, and I had built up mountains of resentment for
having to leave a career, and moving away from all my friends, and running
community. I spent so much energy focusing my frustrations towards my new
wife, who was trying everything she could to make the transition as smooth as
possible. I was so cold and mean to her. I remember making her cry
not once, but many times. I look back now and ask myself, "How could
I do that?!" I was so selfish. My heart was filled with anger,
and my runs had become just a means of escape. I had stopped moving
forward.
In August we had made our move to Charleston, and I was now in the civilian
work force. The work was less stressful, but the pay was less. Far less.
I had to depend on my wife for money. Something that made matters worse.
Then she got deployed for three months. We had never been apart for this
long, and I had been consumed with jealousy, fear, and resentment. Not
even married for half a year, and now I have to lose my wife for three
months. Some how I had made everything about myself. I never took
her feelings into consideration. I never appreciated any attempt she made
to make things better.
I took this opportunity to train for a Boston Qualifying time at the Philadelphia
Marathon. I ran hard every day, but I didn't enjoy one second of it.
Training had turned into work. A task. I no longer loved running,
or anything for that matter. The only way to describe how I had become
was trapped. I was trapped under a thick cloud of darkness, and there was
not a speck of light. I would win races, break running goals, and I even
qualified for Boston at the Philadelphia Marathon (only with the encouragement
and training from a good friend of mine in Baltimore), but I would not see the
these accomplishments. I only saw my deficiencies, where I have failed,
and I slipped further into the dark cloud. I came dangerously close to
understanding my brother's suffering. After the Philadelphia marathon,
running was no longer interesting to me. When I did try to run, I spent
the whole time thinking of every negative thing I could think about. I
began to despise running. I avoided it at all costs. Being alone
with my thoughts was just too difficult to do.
After my wife had come home from the deployment, things were different. I
had depended on my wife for happiness for so long, that without her, I was (for
a lack of better words) nothing, and she had seen how dependent on her I had
become. I had also drained her of her own happiness. I had forced
that dark cloud on her through emails while she was away, and a year of
resentment had taken its toll.. and things were different. We had grown
apart. When I realized what I had done, it was to late. What do you
do in a situation like this? I would like to think that life
is a romantic movie, where all that it takes is a gesture of love, some
flowers, and everything is O.K. again. But the cold truth is, life is not
like "The Notebook," and a passionate kiss will not solve all
problems.
It took several weeks of reflecting and an 18-mile run to during a beautiful
Charleston sunset to make some conclusions. I have come so far in twenty-five
years. People who have been in darker situations have inspired me.
I have moved forward, and overcome obstacles before. One thing that I
have learned from marathon running, is that there is no better feeling than
overcoming the most challenging parts, pushing yourself past that wall, and
spreading your arms open as you cross the finish line. Even if you don't
hit that goal, or get a personal record, knowing that you did not give up and
kept moving forward makes the entire struggle worth it.
So yesterday, I ran a marathon. I didn't have a goal time. I didn't
go out to compete. I didn't even train. I just went out and had fun.
I enjoyed the sun, I smiled as often as possible, I thought about the people I
love, I encouraged people to keep moving forward, and I kept moving forward.
I thanked the police officers for volunteering, and gave high fives to the
crowd. For the first time in seven marathons, I took some time to enjoy
the beauty of the marathon and the magnificence of thousands of people moving
forward together. Thirty feet from the finish line, there was my wife.
She was so beautiful, with sparkling eyes, and the loveliest dimples. She
was standing out there in 40-degree weather just to watch me cross that finish
line. And so I did, with my arms spread open and a smile across my face.
I have miles
left to go in this journey. Running has given me the strength to
not give up, no matter how dark the clouds become, and no matter how painful it
gets. Just keep moving forward.
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