Hi, Friends & Fellow Runners:
In Allentown, PA, this past Sunday, I wound up flat on my back in a medical tent after completing a marathon. I could barely move, much less stand or walk, and pain seemed to permeate every below-the-waist muscle in my body. But I could not have been happier. I had qualified for Boston! As well, and equally important, I had met the expectation of friends in the running community who believed I could do it all along, perhaps even more strongly than I myself did. Their pre-race emails and Facebook postings had straightened me out mentally, given me a much-needed confidence boost, and transformed my race into nothing less than an ode to the power of friendship.
The significance of that kind of support became clear near milepost 23 of Sunday's marathon route, when my left hamstring started cramping, my right foot went totally numb, and I began to feel that I might not finish within the Boston qualifying time. From that point on, it became a matter of jogging slowly for about five minutes, walking for one, and reminding myself over and over, mantra-like, that I wasn't about to disappoint people whose respect I cherished. So I soldiered on. It wasn't pretty. In fact, it was damned ugly. I finished more than 15 minutes slower than a year ago on the same course, and instead of capturing first place in the 70 to 99 age group (as was the case last year) I had to settle for third by default because only three people over 70 had entered the race. But I finished in time and got the Hollywood ending I craved. Thank you, one and all.
Coach Stephen
