The closing miles of a marathon are a pretty amazing experience. It really doesn’t matter if it is your first race, your fourth or your fortieth. There is something magical about those final miles – pushing yourself toward the finish line that stood 26.2 miles away more than three hours before. You have good miles and bad ones, easy stretches and difficult ones. You find yourself smiling at times, grimacing at others.
You question why you are doing this to yourself. In your next race you question why you are doing this to yourself again. Better still, why for the second time in 13 days?
Three plus hours, that’s a long time to be alone with your thoughts. Despite wanting to quit at times, you find a way to dig deeper than you have before and you keep on going. In a strange way as your body grows more and more weary, your resolve grows stronger and stronger.
You have thousands of people around you – many in the same situation you find yourself in. Yet, you feel very alone. Fighting, scratching and clawing – using any means necessary to keep on going.
Now imagine doing that for 12 months.
I can’t begin to imagine what the last 12 months have been like for my friend Dom. Some days when I would be out on a training run and I would think of Dom it would bring a great sense of pride and accomplishment. I would remind myself that I was training for a great reason. To honor a close friend and do all that I could to help make a difference in not only his life, but that of his wife, daughter and son.
Other days I would find myself choking back tears as I ran – wishing that the news I had heard the night before was better. That my friend was getting stronger and that his cancer was being kicked to the curb.
Some mornings I would wonder what May 2nd would feel like when I came through the chute. After fighting for more than three hours through all the soreness, fatigue and pain to get that finisher’s medal.
Will I be able to find the right words as place it around my good friend’s neck and thank him for allowing me to do this for him? What do you say to the bravest man you’ve ever known?
Tomorrow (Friday) morning, Dawn and I will be heading to Pittsburgh, off to tackle a second marathon in less than two weeks. Packing my race bag last night I’ll be the first to say that the emotions of this trip are really starting to get to me.
Frankly, it’s hard to write about. I can only imagine what Sunday morning will feel like standing in the starting corral surrounded by more than 16,000 runners, but very much alone. Finding myself more than three hours away from the faces of family and friends, hugs and tears.
The only thing I know for certain when I cross the starting line is that no matter what happens along the way, I have to keep going. I have to keep putting one foot in front of the other and never quit. It’s simply not an option. Not this time, not this race.
Thank you Dom for teaching me that. It’s a lesson that I promise to never, ever forget. This one is for you on Sunday.
Clear eyes, full heart, can’t lose.
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Dom, Val, Sierra, Nico
Joe Runs For Dom 