Running A Marathon Has Little To Do With Winning

My humble running story – determination can win through…

This morning I read a post by Helen Cassidy Page where she had committed to writing one article a day for the whole of this month, her theory being that if she could set her mind to walking a marathon, and completing it, writing a daily article should be a walk in the park.

Of course anyone who has actually walked, or run a marathon, knows it’s anything but a walk in the park. It’s more closely related to insanity. Yet many of us offer ourselves up as sacrificial lambs, not once, but often, even when the pain lives on in our minds for a while.

In time though, the agony becomes a distant memory, and we are left only with the thoughts of the wonder people we were, the tenacity that held us together, and the roar of the crowd as we limped across the line.

I shared a few thoughts with Helen and she urged me to write my experience. Here it is.

Arriving on Bougainville Island – in The Pacific

My husband and I had been runners for quite a few years, often participating in the annual Canberra Fun Run, some ten kilometres that started in the south of the city and finished in the city centre by the lake.

That distance was a relatively easy run for us. Though never star performers we could still put in impressive times.

But then we chose to live and work in PNG for a while…

…on the beautiful island of Bougainville, beautiful one day, perfect the next. (Home of Bougainville Copper Ltd.)

To be honest there was little to do there. We found out very quickly that it was an island where you made your own fun, sail, run, play squash, or golf, and we determined to do just that.

I quickly found a Hash House Harriers’ group and joined it immediately. It was a diverse group of women from all corners of the globe. They were very welcoming, and intent on having fun. Fine by me. We did some great runs together.

I soon found out that a marathon was being held in July…it was May at that time.

May. Only ten women were participating fully. Others were doing a relay…more about that later.

I asked about participating, but was assured that I could never be fit enough…

Say what? Red rag to a bull!

I quietly registered and joined some women in daily pre-dawn runs, which meant starting at 5am, running for one hour.

It’s the best time of the day there, warm, but not hot and humid!

On the weekends we would do the full marathon distance (40km from memory), taking different routes but never doing the actual route.

Well, we soon became very fit

And I had kept quiet about my marathon hopes. (I waited until the last minute to submit my name.)

Sometimes I’d hear discussions on our hash runs, bets about who would take out the first three places, two young teachers from the international school where I was teaching, and another local girl.

And even when they learned that I was planning to participate, the names of the three putative ‘winners’ never changed.

Surprise? No

So the morning of the race began.

As I said, I’d never run the route before. All I knew was that we would start off in the mountains of Panguna (the mine site), in pitch black, at 4am.

All I had to do was follow the torch brigade up five km of steep terrain, and the rest would be easy, all downhill to Arawa, and the beach.

Sounds easy, doesn’t it!

I set off with friends but eventually we all lost each other and the road stretched out, and I was alone with the dark, the quiet, and my thoughts.

And then – suddenly a car screeched to a halt…

…and some tall black men jumped out. All I could see were flashes of pearly-white teeth.

I screamed! I really thought this was it. My life would be over in a flash. I don’t know how fast I ran, but I’m sure it was impressive.

One of them caught up to me. By this time I thought my heart would explode. “Don’t worry!” he called as he ran alongside. “We’re in the relay.”

Damn! I should have realized!

My husband was also participating in the relay. I relaxed immediately.

So, I regained my senses and ploughed on…

Soon the sun was up, a hot, unforgiving sun that I was ill-prepared for. I had no water with me as I’d been assured there would be drinks on the way, which was true, sickly, sugary drinks. Not exactly ideal liquid for a runner.

But along the way I met up with many male runners who showed me where to find fresh water creeks. We’d have a chat as we greedily gulped it down, then back on our way we went.

Once again, I was alone with my thoughts and questioning the sanity of my decision.

Apart from the unrelenting heat, and muscle soreness, the run stretched out, the odd car hooting as they passed us by.

Towards the last three km, there was a right turn that would take us to the Arawa township, and home.

Temptation!

By this time, like most others, I was totally and utterly exhausted, and the temptation was there. Turning right would end my pain.

Clearly though, the organizers had got that one covered. They’d set up a cheering squad, including staff and students from school, to keep us all going.

At one stage I looked back to see if any other women were behind me. One was a friend Christine. She immediately became my competition. Friend as she was, I couldn’t allow her to beat me, and painful and wiped out as I felt, somehow I found the energy to put one foot forward after the other, and cross…the…line.

I’d made it!

Christine was only a few paces behind, but I had beaten her.

What was most important though, was that I had completed the marathon. I came third, and completely changed the projections.

The number one female was the gym teacher, the second was also a teacher, but the youngest by far, and third was little old me.

So the pundits got it wrong

To be honest I would have been happy just to have finished the marathon. That was truly my intention. Gaining a place was just a little icing on the cake.

Did I do another one the next week?

Of course not, but I did a fun-run two weeks later. It was challenging enough but the element of fun prevailed.

And that, when I think about it, is another story worth sharing. But not for now.

The lesson?

Meantime, all I can say is, if you want to do something, don’t listen to the naysayers.

Go ahead and at least try.

You can do one of two things, succeed, or fall a little short. To me, there is no failure. That is the preserve of the professionals.

Ours is just to give anything we want to do our best shot. If we succeed, great. If we don’t there are always lessons to be learned.

“When you try something you risk failure. When you don’t, you ensure it.”