Running on Guts and Prayer

I was fortunate to be able to make it to the starting line last Saturday morning for the 2009 Lo-Tide 5K run in Carolina Beach, NC. The preceding days, I prayed simply for the strength to allow me to participate in the race, and the ability to perform at my best once the gun sounded and the running began. Afterwards, I was able to give thanks for both conditions were granted. It was one of those days were something deep inside of me helped propel me form point A to point B; a combination of such inner fortitude and faith, as well as outward exertion.

Coming off the flu as I did, I knew realistically that I would not be able to run time wise what I would normally be able to, or if I was entering the race fresh and healthy. The weather conditions did not help either. It was a cold damp morning with a persistent, nagging raw breeze. Official conditions later were reported as cloudy and 44 degrees, but rest assured it was a "cold" 44 degrees. The kind of weather whereby its hard to get real loose physically to be able to run fast from the get go and most effectively, as a race the length of a 5K or a 10K inherently demands of its participants. At least those interested in running whatever to them would be considered a "faster effort."

The 5K runners and walkers were assembled at nine a.m. on Cape Fear Avenue near the Sea Merchant. The race starter led all 800+ of us huddled, shivering bodies in a traditional Irish prayer (as the race coincided with St Patty's Day weekend), a motorcycle revved up with a "leprechaun" at the wheel, the commands Ready, Set.... GO were shouted, and we were off and moving in masse, one big old sea of humanity jostling down the macadam streets of Pleasure Island. The race took us all once around the lake (which was quite interesting dodging bodies as the front runners of the 5k weaved on through the back half of the 10K runners)... then out on a loop to 8th St., back in Atlanta St. past the Elementary School and to the beach access on Hamlet St...then the final agonizing fifty yards or so on the inhospitable sand on into the finishing line chute.

I ended up coming in 8th place overall, and won an award for 2nd place in the 30-39 age group category. However, apart from those final statistics, is what can't be measured in any numerical sense...and quite frankly is a heck of alot more important than any of those place tallies or stats anyway. Its the effort put forth, not only the effort I put forth but the effort put forth by each and every person that went out there, toed the line, and finished either of the two races. The beauty of running is that ultimately every one of us on any given day can be winners, for after all, we are essentially competing with and against ourselves.

I won Saturday simply by showing up and giving it my all, running the race on guts for the most part, with a sense that something was there helping me along each and every agonizing step I took. I've run much faster times in my life, but I'm not sure the last time that it took the physical and mental effort that it took me Saturday morning to do what I ended up doing. I do not think I could have gotten to that blessed finish line one second faster than I did. I gave it my all, and in the last analysis of the sport of running as well as the sport called life, its what we may end up eventually being judged by after the last race has been run, and the final finish line has been crossed.