Yesterday's memory on Facebook brought me back to my first 5 mile race in 2008. It was an evening race and it was hot and humid. I was in the very early phase of my running career and healing from the effects of childhood paralytic polio and trauma that manifested in the guise of the diagnosis of Post-Polio Syndrome. My first road race was the Corrib Pub 5K which was a fun, non-competitive race; quite the contrast to the Marathon Sports 5 Miler a month later in July.
Heat, humidity and an evening race were an intensely challenging combination for a neuromuscular condition. It was a fast field and I was intimidated from the competitive energy at the starting line. I remember asking myself what was I doing there and why did I ever say I was going to run the 2009 Boston Marathon.
As the sun set and Tom and I were winding our way through the back roads of Weston, I couldn't tell where my tears ended and sweat began. I profusely apologized to Tom for holding him back and desperately wanted to quit the race. The volunteers at the water stops and those directing the runners were incredibly supportive but I could hardly let in their words of encouragement. I felt haunted by childhood memories of lugging my long leg brace trying to keep up with my peers to no avail. They would run off and leave me in the dust having no interest in compassion or kindness for what I was living through.
How healing, by contrast, to have Tom by my side telling me there was no reason to apologize for my pace and to just keep going mile by mile until we got to the finish line. Five miles seemed like an eternity to me that night.
As we came into the finish line on the field, the organizers of the race were blowing their air horn and honking the horn on their sweep vehicle. Everyone involved in the race congratulated me and cheered me on as I ran in to cross that finish line.
Tom instinctively knew (and so did I despite the intense discomfort I felt) that if I would have not finished that race, I would not have gone on to train for and cross the finish line of the 2009 Boston Marathon.
I've crossed a lot of finish lines since then and in many of them, I was the last person to cross the finish line. I now sign up for races where there are shorter and longer distances on the same race course which gives me a more enjoyable race experience.
I don't care that I run slow ... and what is slow anyway because
There are so many wonderful memories of trials, tribulations and triumphs that I've collected during these past 10 years of my illustrious running career. After being told to prepare to spend the rest of my life in a wheelchair, I decided I was not going to take the diagnosis of Post-Polio Syndrome sitting down. I could never compete in athletics (or so I thought) as a survivor of paralytic polio at the age of 5 but went on to run the Boston Marathon at age 55. It's a great time to celebrate all that I have overcome as a survivor of paralytic polio and trauma and I'm delighted to have you along for the journey.
I'm writing my next book, "The Adventures of Runnergirl1953" that is a compilation of my 11 year healing odyssey of going the distance on the roads and in my life overcoming challenges at every turn.
To your health and wellness
From my heart to yours,
Mary
Proud to be a part of Friends of Blue Diamond Athletic Displays, Inc.
Be sure to visit my website by following this link.
My books are available on Amazon.
Feel the Heal: An Anthology of Poems to Heal Your Life
Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing Hope and Possibility that chronicles the first 7 years of my healing journey:
And my latest and greatest book - Going the Distance: The Power of Endurance (With a Foreword by Jacqueline Hansen):
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