Wednesday, February 20, 2008

He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother


We arrived in Austin the day before the big event. Made our way down to the convention center for the formalities. My baby sister and I would be running the marathon together, side by side. Brief introductions to our pacesetter, Meredith, then we cruised through the horde looking for free stuff. With our pens in hand we headed out to our hotel room, made our dinner reservations at P.F. Chang's where we crammed our bellies full of carbs. By the time we got back to the hotel I was ready for bed. I needed my rest, this would be a big day, not overwhelming or anything. I could do this. So I skipped several scheduled runs. I was doing really well on the ones I did make. I just need my rest. I can do this. I was strong on that one, I remember, not even sore. Just a little shut eye, now. Now.

I woke-up as scheduled at 4:45 am. Bouncing off the walls, annoying everyone. How could you not be excited. From October to today, running five days a week (mostly), fees, registrations, reservations, invitations. The whole thing is just an ever intensifying combination of pain and panic, and pride. After all this is my baby sister running with me, I'm a man, aren't I. Arrival at the start finish line was early, probably too early. It was cold and all we could do was stand around and wait. I didn't miss too many runs, right?

Finally Governor Perry announces some announcements over the public address. Some guy breathes the national anthem into the microphone, a cannon fires, fireworks ignite as we lurch forward. The herd slowly opened up over the first three miles and we were making amazing progress. Our pace-team was slowly falling behind. I was on top of the world, and carrying my sister with me. This isn't hard. I can do this all day. The jokes were rolling off my tongue to my fellow runners, spectators. I own this race. Everything was going great... for about 16 miles.

If you've never run in a marathon or been a spectator, one of the most shocking things is the parade of humanity that makes up a marathon. People of all sizes, shapes, cultures, usually a few costumes. It is very humbling. Especially when you see all of these people passing you by. Why didn't I stick to my schedule. Knots of human tissue extend down to the ground where my legs once were. My wonderful, generous, compassionate sister holds-up for me. Pushing me to go a little longer. Waiting for me to recover. Helping stretch my legs out. We spent longer on the last third of the race than on the first two thirds combined.

The last turn downtown I pulled everything I had left into something resembling a run. Everyone on the sidewalk is cheering. As the line draws nearer I reach out for my sister's hand, lift them skyward and finish. By this time I am crying, hugging my sis. Incredible.

The hardest thing that I have ever done, I could never have totally prepared for it. Yes, it was worth it, a singular experience. Singular, I will never do it again. Four hours forty-one minutes and fourteen seconds of torture. Oprah was faster.

Yeah, I'll do it again.

bcIII


Weekend Predictions:

Blue Devils 3, Komets 1

Stickmen 0, Spiders 1

Patriots 3, Puckers 1

Iceholes 2, Army of the Twelve Monkeys 1

Grave Diggers 4, Snipers 0

Warriors 2, Brewzers 3

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Aged I-league veteran looking for a team. Anybody need help next session?

Billy Craft
(formerly of Jolly Rogers and Redrum)

Anonymous said...

what was your time

rahul

Anonymous said...

4 days 2 hours and 8 seconds....

Anonymous said...

Your sister has better legs than you. :) Is she single?

Anonymous said...

she is happily married, to an accountant. I don't know what angle you should try to steal her away... Love or money? I think she might be covered on both.

bcIII