In Search of a Hero

I'm always in search for a new hero, and yesterday I found one. It came from the most unlikely of places just when I least expected it, but I knew I had found one in a single moment. My new hero is my wife, Kara.

Yesterday, she ran her first marathon in 5 hours and 37 minutes. But it wasn't just that she crossed the finish line, and it wasn't her finishing time that made me realize how amazing she is. It was how she did it. She started training 18 months ago for the 2005 Freescale marathon, but after her long training run of 18 miles, she came down with a bad case of tendonitis, and missed a critical 3 weeks of training. The idea of running that race was lost, and I expected that the desire to run a marathon at all would be lost with it. That year, I don't think she was training for the race for herself, I think it was something that she wanted to do for me. And anyone who has run this race knows, this is not something you can do for someone else. It takes too much commitment and discipline, and there are so many obstacles to overcome, that a desire to run is not enough. You have to have a NEED to finish.

When the time came to train for the 2006 Freescale marathon, she signed up for the AustinFit training program, and began her training. She had her good days and her bad days, but this time I could see a difference. When she talked about it, she didn't say "if I run" the marathon, she talked about it as something that she was definitely going to do. Her training went well, and after the RunTex 20 miler, she had a great time and felt really good. It looked like she was prepared and ready to go. Then, while doing one final 21 mile training run, things fell apart. She came down with a nasty case of IT band syndrome, which I know all too well. It hurt, and she limped the final mile to her car. She had no idea what the injury was, but I knew right away. I diagnosed her (I'm not a doctor, but this is an injury you don't soon forget) and told her to go see a physical therapist. It was only 3 weeks before the marathon, and it looked like deja vu from last year.

After 10 days off, she started up her runs slowly. She had missed a few runs, but this was the tapering period anyways. As long as her leg stayed strong, I knew she could do it. And more importantly, she knew she could do it. And now we cut to the day before the race.

It's 30 degrees outside, and the forecast for tomorrow is high 20's and freezing rain. Or, as wunderground.com put it, "ice pellets." But she never complained. Sure, she worried and checked the forecast every hour to see if it would change, but she didnt complain. She never once mentioned that it wasn't fair, or that it would ruin her chances of her first marathon finish. An IT band problem is worst under cold temperatures, but she didn't flinch. And on race morning, she put on several layers of clothes, and we headed out.

That morning was freezing as expected. We walked around to find the bathrooms, and then walked about a mile and a half searching for our car, which we had lost. Wasting miles on your feet is not something you want to do before a marathon, but she was not deterred. And at 7:30 am, she took off on her adventure.

I didn't see her again until mile 11, where she looked tired and cold. Her stomach was a little upset, which I did not expect. I tried to get her to take some food, but she wasn't really interested. She walked for a minute with me, then started off again. I was already sensing something special in her, but I knew she was in for an experience that she has never felt before, and would never forget.

The next time I saw her was at 19 miles. My dad and another friend were running ahead of her, so I gave my mom the car keys and told her to go to the finish line. We knew we would never make it to the finish line to see them, if we waited around for Kara. I was going to run the rest of the way with Kara. She hadn't asked me to run with her, but I knew she would need it. And even if she didn't want it, I was going to do it anyways. When I found her, she was struggling. In her words at 19.5 miles, "I hit the wall around 14, and now I just keep banging my head against it." It was one of the few things she said for the next hour and a half. I spent that time doing all of the talking, trying to keep her mind off of the run. I encouraged her to keep moving forward, just like I've been encouraged in the past. But the truth was, she didn't need me there. She was now on a personal mission, and I was just a spectator. During the next hour, I ran with a cell phone. I called people that had already finished, so I could give Kara the update. I called her sister, to tell her how she was doing. I wanted everyone to know that she was still strong. I knew she was feeling a lot of pain, but she never complained. I know I would have complained, I know I have complained in similar situations. Maybe she was too tired to complain, but I don't think so. I think she just isn't any good at it.

At about 25.75 miles, I let her go. I told her to run alone, enjoy the experience, and think about what an amazing accomplishment she was now acheiving. She had worked hard for so long, and now she needed to just reap the rewards. I walked off the course, and ran along the sidelines behind her, so I could be a real spectator. I made it to the finish line just in time to see her finish. It was an amazing accomplishment. I hadn't felt so proud in a long time.

After the race, I finally heard her complain. They gave her a banana, some gatorade, and a cup of chili. "This is stupid. Who would eat chili after a marathon?" That's all she had to complain about. And I ate her chili.

Before we went to sleep last night, she called me an inspiration. But I was the one that was inspired that day.