In a few days, this Sunday, March 2, I’ll be running in the L.A. Marathon—my first in a while.I feel strong, prepared, and enthused about this event. It was just 18 months ago that it seemed that I might never run again — a lingering foot injury had flared up for the third time and I was side-lined. Just as I was launching my book on running, I was unable to run. How cool is that? Yeah, not much.
All the doctors and specialists that looked at my foot said my options were muscle surgery, nerve surgery, or a milder alternative of drug therapy. The drugs were anti-seizure medications that were supposed to work on the nerves in my foot and quell the inflammation. When I looked up the drugs in the Physicians Desk Reference, there were 3 pages of side-effects. And I’m not talking about an upset stomach.
“You’ll want to be sure that you take these meds before bedtime, because you might fall over if you take them in the daytime,” the doctor said. Honestly!
A year later, with careful, patient rehabilitation, stretching, and a whole heap of visualization and mental imaging, I have built my mileage back to marathon level — with a lot of wonderful support from wonderful runners, coaches, and trainers that Spirit has sent my way. No drugs. No surgery. No pain either. It has been an experience of what I know to be true in may areas of life, from my running to my life and business coaching clients: small steps, taken consistently over time, can create huge results.
It has taken a great deal of discipline to build back slowly. To listen to my body, to the coaching of others, to the wisdom of my own heart, and to stay with the mental commitment to create my own reality in the face of so much medical “certainty.”
Having once thought that I’d never run again, every single mile I cover is now infused with a deep level of gratitude, joy, and humility. There have been many awesome runs in my life, exciting events, and exotic locations. But now, this mile here is the best mile. The one I’m running right now. And it always will be. One mile at a time.
My thanks to Todd, Chuck, and Tiffany of the Long Beach Team in Training group, who have each played foundational roles in my return to running health. Sunday will certainly be a personal celebration—it will also be a celebration of their willingness to give of their time, knowledge, hearts, and wisdom. Bless you all.
And as I run, I’ll be running with great pride as I wear the purple singlet of the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, who I have been raising funds for as part of my training. As is sometimes heard on our trainings runs, “If you think running a marathon is tough, try chemo.” Now there’s some perspective.
And as I have met and talked with a number of honored team mates and other folks fighting blood cancers, I have been deeply inspired to return to full health in my own small way. Boy, if they can handle that, I can sure as hell handle this.
By about 10 on Sunday morning, the challenge of the marathon will be over. Their fight will go on. Sunday will also be a celebration of them, and their great courage, persistence, and strength of heart.
Sunday will also be a celebration of a fourth group — the scores of people who have supported me through making donations to my fundraising. My goal of raising $2,200 is all but complete and will be by event day. As I run the marathon, I will carry a list of their names with me. My prayer is that all the grace, healing, inspiration, joy, humor, and good ol’ fashioned loving that has been a part of my training will find it’s way to them. Filling them, inspiring them, lifting them, as it has me.
Whether you are contemplating a first 5k, running your 100th marathon, seeking to make a major shift in your life, or facing the reality of an uphill challenge of fighting life-threatening disease, you CAN make it. One step at a time. As Jim Shapiro reminds us in his remarkable book, Running Across America, “even snails can cross continents.”
Wherever they may take you, may your trails be joyful ones.
