My Inspiration
May 2011
By Carl Mather
Imagine a year where you run three marathon PRs. A year that is injury free. You would begin to think that trend would go on forever. In 2006 I experienced such a year and was fully confident that 2007 promised more of the same.
As 2006 ended, I was running well; five marathons – three in a six week period, including three personal bests. I hoped to ride that wave of success into 2007. The plan was to run the Greenland 50 K in May, the Leadville Marathon in July and volunteer as a pacer for the Leadville 100 mile race in August. In 2008 I’d be ready to run the full 100 miles.
The reality was a succession of injuries and declining results. I ran, and I raced, but the thrill was gone. There was little distinction between my races and my training runs; mostly that I had a number pinned to my chest.
My intervention was surgery on my arthritic big toe in March of 2008. I now have a steel screw in the first metatarsal of my right foot. I rushed the recovery and broke that bone. In May 2008 my older brother, John, suffered a massive heart attack and died. He was 45, a loving husband and father of two. It was in the aftermath of John’s death that my mother, who had been diagnosed with breast cancer three years earlier, began a slow decline. She succumbed in July of 2009. In August 2009 I fell and tore my rotator cuff. I ran with the pain for eight months and had surgery in April of 2010.
But, this is not a tale of woe. This is a story about motivation and finding joy in simple things – like finding a $20 bill in an old pair of jeans. It is a story of friendships.
Through all of this, running was my constant outlet. When you are running and racing well, it is easy to motivate yourself to get up early and train; to push yourself. When your stock is low, it seems that no ray of light can pierce the gloom. But one did. It came in the form of an email on Friday, the 13th of August last year. The email was an invitation to a group run on the Highline Canal. I had trained with or raced against most of these guys for the past 18 years. We ran 16 miles that day. Somewhere along the way, someone asked if I was training for a specific race. No, I replied, I just wanted to run. The closer we got the finish, the faster the pace became. Like a junkie after a fix, I was euphoric and wanted more. We started meeting Saturday mornings. The core became: Tim, Ken, Randy, Jeff, Mark, Kevin and me.
Kevin and I competed in a ½ marathon trail race on Sunday, the 13th. The next day, his wife found him on the floor having a seizure. It was sobering news when we heard of his surgery to remove a brain tumor. His return to running has been amazing.
Mostly, we are just a pack of guys talking about: sports, food, home repairs, training methods, movies, injuries and running shoes. Oh, and we also tell really bad jokes. You can hear us coming from about 100 yards away. If you run on the Highline Canal early Saturday mornings, you have probably seen us. We are the guys who great you with a hearty “good morning!”
Running with these guys gave me something to look forward to at the end of the week. It helped bridge those tough winter months. From the beginning of December to the end of March, I ran seven training runs of 20 miles or more and 11 runs over 2:30. I am too weak willed to have done that on my own. And they were all quality miles!
Mark, the youngest of the group, told us of his plans to propose to his girlfriend on the banks of the Charles River on the Saturday before he was to run the Boston Marathon.
At the Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon Randy placed 3rd and Jeff placed 2nd in their respective age groups. Tim and Ken ran the Boston Marathon in under three hours. Mark proposed to his girlfriend and she said yes.
On May 7th, the anniversary of my brother’s death, I ran the Greenland 50 kilometer event. It was a disaster; the worst race of my life. The temperature climbed toward 80 degrees and I got heat stroke. Halfway through the third of four laps around a hilly, 7.something mile course, I resolved to abandon the race. But as I approached the aid station, I saw Kevin handing out water and sports drink. After all that he has been through, there was no way I was going to quit the race. Kevin helped me find my water bottle and I suffered through the last seven plus miles.
During that last lap I had a lot of time to ponder the question, why do I do this to myself? Here are some reasons.
Mark reminds me of myself when I was in my late 20s except that Mark is a really nice guy. He graduated from a Big East college, the University of Pittsburg, and lived in Boston. He brings a fresh, inquisitive attitude to running.
Tim – We all have aches and pains; from minor stiffness to injuries that require surgery. But Tim has seen more than his share of doctors, physical therapists, chiropractors and shamans. He has the ability to run through pain.
Ken is the most consistent runner in our group. I’ve never seen him have a bad run. Ken’s father died when Ken was about the same age as my nephew was when my brother died. That reminds me how fleeting life is.
Kevin – Six months after having a tumor removed from his brain, Kevin competed in the 25 kilometer race in Greenland. What more can be said of his commitment and resolve.
Randy is ‘The Mayor’ of the Highline Canal Trail. It seems he knows everyone and has positive things to say to all. He keeps the conversation lively.
Jeff is the runner I aspire to be. He shows me what I could be if I were more talented and trained better. His 2:38 at Boston is legendary.
With mates like these, how can I keep from running?
I run for my brother John. I run for my family. I run because it feels good. I run because I like to compete. I run, therefore, I am.
The point is, we all have experiences that shake our resolve; events and circumstances that distract us from the things that bring meaning to our lives. Our greatness lies in our ability to overcome those obstacles. There are roads and trails to be run. Let’s get to work.
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