One Foot In Front of the Other

Whenever I show up at the starting line of a marathon, I get completely overwhelmed. I start to look around and find myself surrounded by runners. They have their "Iron Man" watches, their Power Bars, their Goo packs and their special Gatorade mixes. They are stretching, warming up and talking about heir previous marathon experiences. Some even have their own personal pacers. I think about the 26 plus miles of road ahead of me, and I want to climb back in the car and drive home. I don't know my split times. I can't keep a steady pace. I know that my one and only Goo pack will give me that last burst of energy to complete miles 21-26, and then it will make me sick for the rest of the day. I am not fast. i am not experienced. I don't know the course, and I have never run the same race twice. But, there is one thing I am certain of - I can put one foot in front of the other for a very long time.

Running a marathon has become a metaphor for me. It's my metaphor for life and for just about everything I do. I have learned many life lessons while on the road all by myself. They apply to running as well as just about everything else. here are just a few of them:

1. You can waste a lot of precious energy trying to make things look good for a lot of people who don't matter.

2. There are patches of blue in the sky even during the greyest storms.

3. Most of the rocks I get in my shoes are there because I flipped them up myself.

4. I DO have my own personal pacer - and he always lets me know when I am on track.

I've run in all kinds of weather. I have slipped on the ice, run in place in the wind. I have tripped and skinned both hands and knees running on the smoothest sidewalk on the most beautiful sunny day. I have come home drenched from running in the rain and frozen from running in the snow. When the conditions aren't just right I have learned that "seeing" is the most difficult thing.

When the wind blows, dirt pelts you in the eye. When it snows, flakes collect on your eyelashes. When it rains, the drops are always coming towards you no matter which direction you are running. I used to turn around and head home when the weather got rough. lately, however, I have found that once I am sufficiently pelted, frozen or drenched, my perspective becomes even clearer. It is when I am dripping wet that I most enjoy the beam of sun or the spot of blue in a grey and darkened sky.

Sometimes I have run ten miles with a rock in my shoe - and I have done it by choice. I ask myself, after the fact, why anyone would choose to run that far with a rock in his shoe. I happens so easily. My shoes flip up little stones as I job along the pavement. Every once in a while one ends up on the top edge of my sock. I know it's there, and I hope that it will just stay put or fall off onto the road. Inevitably, however, it ends up working its way down into my shoe. I can feel it, but it is small. I ought to stop right then and remove it, but that takes time. It is so much easier to just keep moving with no adjustments. I have suffered the consequences of running miles with a rock in my shoe. I have had blisters, lost toe nails and endured gaping open sores - all because of a little rock that I flipped up myself. Sometimes I have actually stopped immediately and gotten the irritating rock out. It makes all the difference in the world to make that simple little adjustment. My gait is easier, quicker and lighter. I am not "labored" or "laden."

I have always wondered how fast I could really run if I had the right help. I have watched as personal pacers have passed me with their runner in toe. Some of them post their goal times on their arms - 3.0, 3.5, 4.0 or even 4.5. I wonder what it's like to have someone always telling you to go faster or slower - someone who tells you to take a walk-break or drink a little water. I try to be wise. I drink a little, often. I walk more than I should, but I always get moving again. I try to listen to my body and make sure that I can finish the race. The greatest blessing I have ever experienced in life is having a 'spiritual personal pacer.' When I really listen, it lets me know when I am on track. Sometimes I want to be better, faster or stronger right now, but my 'pacer' helps me feel satisfied and just keep putting one foot in front of the other.