It has only been a week since I ran the Seattle Rock N Roll Marathon and I feel like my memory is already starting to fade. Let me try and tell you my story from the beginning (of my training that is).
When I ran the Salt Lake Marathon 4 years ago I ran in my Dads shoes (see here for the story of my marathon and click here for the story of my Dad, his battle with Cancer and our journey as a family).
For whatever reason when 2013 arrived I felt this need to run a marathon again. Do you ever have the desire to be apart of something great? I think there is tremendous value in doing things (like a Marathon) often so you can prove to yourself that you can. There may have been something to the fact that I was on my 29th year and I wanted to add one more thing to my list of accomplishments for my 20's. I also remembered the incredible feeling of accomplishment that the first Marathon gave me. It brought on success in so many other facets of my life. I literally felt like I could DO and BE anything! I personally believe that running a marathon is at least 70-80% mental (just run one and you will see that many of the marathoners are not the perfect human specimens). Marathoners are often over weight and have something greater to run for other than just weight loss. Sure fitness is a part of it, but it isn't the sole motive. So who knows... it could have been any number of things but it was enough to get me to commit.
Now here is a little look inside who I am. When I commit to something (like a marathon) I commit. All I need to do is tell someone about it and hope that they will keep me accountable. I actually didn't pay my Marathon entry fee until a week before the race (yes, I realize I pay more this way, but I would rather pay more than injure myself along the way and lose the money since entry fees are not refundable). I realize this is somewhat backwards for most people, but for me, it works. I recruited three of my buddies to run with me and I began reporting my runs on 365in365.org, nikeplus, instagram and facebook. The world knew I was running one. They would ask me how my training was going and they would cheer me on with every post I made. This was enough to keep me going through the five months of training (although it was probably annoying to most).
Here's a photo of the guys. They're pretty great.
So I (we) started training. I ran 3-4 times a week, followed the program and hated every minute of it (seriously). Since I had previously committed to Ashley that I would not be running one for many years (more than 4) I decided I would try and do as many of my runs as possible in the early morning hours so that my training wouldn't infringe on family time. I think I did a pretty good job of this. A couple of the Saturday runs would go until 9-10 but never longer than that. Getting up at 5 am, running insanely long distances, working a full long day, coming home and juggling dinner, kids bed times and the occasional young men's activity on Wednesdays and Saturdays however, was enough to bring my tank to empty...OFTEN.
A little over half way through my training, on a 12 mile run, I banged my knee up pretty bad (never run long distances with Nike Free's... they have terrible support). I am still fairly certain that I tore my meniscus. I am just waiting to see how bad it gets before I resort to surgery. For a couple weeks I had to switch completely over to biking to lessen the blow to my knee... but that was a LONG time in the saddle and wasn't quite the same. But I kept going. I had committed and I was going to do whatever it takes to cross that finish line.
Things got better. I was consistently averaging a 9:20 mile pace even on my 18 and 20 mile runs. I thought, "this may not be so bad after all" but those thoughts would only last for a moment and then they would flee from my memory and I would go back to that negative place.
After months of training it finally came time to run my race. I went to our ward Youth Conference that Wednesday and Thursday (which I had never done before and underestimated the levels of exhaustion that I would endure those few days). Friday came and I was off to downtown Seattle. Headed to the Centurylink expo to meet one of my running buddies, Jason and his wife Kathy, to go and get our running bibs. I started feeling a little bit better about the next morning. I was getting excited and was "ready to run".
A few hours later I met up with Ash and the kids and we went to pick up my sister Jeanette and her husband Todd from Sea Tac airport. Let me add here how blessed I am to have an incredibly supportive family. They all flew into town for the race and I couldn't be more grateful for their generosity in taking time away from their schedules, booking flights, or driving 12 hours to see me run. Who does that? The Lefrandt's do. It made a world of difference.
I realize this novel is getting a bit lengthy, but bare with me... the good stuff is about to come.
We arrived at our hotel, back in my hometown, Issaquah Washington! It has been years since I went back to visit that wonderful city. It truly felt like "home" and to finally bring My family there and show them my house, my Dads house growing up, my high school and introducing them to some of our dearest friends made the trip that much more special. All seemed right in the world.
The kids did fairly well at night (thanks to the fact that Jeanette and Todd took care of Lily and Sophie for us). I set my alarm for 5:30 and got to sleep. I fortunately had a pretty good nights sleep and felt energized and ready to go when my alarm went off. The weather was perfect. Clear blue skies, and warm. When does that happen in Seattle? Fortunately I have had good luck with weather on events like this.
My brother in law Todd was a saint and drove me down to Seattle Center so I didn't have to think about parking. I got there early and joined the 20,000+ people that were waiting at the start line. We were spaced into corrals, I was in corral 24. Every minute after the gun went off they would release another corral. About 30 minutes AFTER the gun went off, we finally crossed the staring line.
Here's a shot I took after the gun had gone off... you can tell by the people around me that we weren't going anywhere anytime soon.
The feeling and energy was electric. There is something incredible about the running community that I just love. I found this on a fellow runners blog that resonated with me.
"Runners have an unspoken bond that’s unmatched in any other sport. We’re trusting of complete strangers. In every other group I’ve joined in my life, trust is earned gradually—it has to be proven. With most runners I’ve met, trust is assumed. We support each other immediately and without hesitation. More than any other group, my running friends are fiercely loyal. I don’t know why “good people run,” but I have a guess. We build relationships outside in nature, forcing us to leave the stress, anxiety, and societal pressures behind for just an hour or so. We leave the drama at work, family stress, and we just focus on the run. All we need to have a good time is a pair of shoes."
- Joanna Reuland
I've never fully understood why I run. I remember why I started... but why do I keep going? I think Joanna explained it as good as any. I feel this sense of community and camaraderie when I run. Such an neat experience. If you haven't experienced it... get off your butt and get out there!
I digress... back to the story.
The run began. The city was beautiful. This was the Rock n' Roll Marathon and there were bands and music every mile or two. It helped take my mind of off the run for the first little bit. At mile 7 or 8 we started the scenic portion of the run around Lake Washington. Cheerleaders and fans were everywhere... there was even a tribute with family members of loved ones that have sacrificed their life for us in the service of our country. It was moving and powerful. There were people running on their behalf.
Two of the guys I had ran with had gone enough ahead of us that there was no way to catch up with them. My friend Jason stayed by my side and together we were enjoying the run. As we ran, the temperature began to rise. I was used to running in 45-50 degree temperatures. It was over 80 that day. At first I didn't think much of it and was just grateful it wasn't raining. It could have been worse. Right?
Time went on and the miles continued to climb. My body started to ache and then THE HILLS. Around mile 17 or 18 the hills started picking up (perfect timing right?) I had added hills into my training, but not the heat and certainly not both. Plus, my body was not 100%. I am about 24 pounds heavier than when I ran my first marathon... and my tank was on empty. Not my food tank, that was still fine. I was following the guidelines. I carb loaded appropriately. I was hydrating my body. I was eating when I was supposed to. Physically, mentally, and emotionally I was drained. I really was not in a state of mind to run this thing, but I was so committed to following through with what I said I would do that there was no stopping me. Or so I thought.
Add another 2-4 miles and you can imagine what happened next. Imagine the gas running out in your car on the middle of the floating bridge in Seattle. Ya... this is what happened (minus the car part). I was on empty. At this point I was walking. The pacer that I was hoping to always stay in front of passed me (4 hrs 25 minutes). Nothing was more demoralizing. I knew they were going to get further and further ahead of me.
Before I completely lost my mind I snapped a quick shot from my phone running through a tunnel...
After this point it started getting ugly... I was worried about the next hour or so of this race. How was I going to get through this. I hesitated, but decided I should text Ashley. I had my cell phone with me (fortunately). My first text to her read:
"I hate myself."
Ashley responded to me:
"Keep Going Baby!!!"
I don't think she realized the seriousness of what my message entailed. My next message said:
"I want to die!!!"
She then said, " We're so proud of you! You're almost done!!!"
{insert crickets here} Minutes passed by...
"What mile are you on?" she asked.
"No Clue:I responded. I had officially lost my mind.
I think she got the point. She then did something that I will forever thank her for. She immediately sent out a text to her family that told them I was struggling, that I only had 4 miles left to go and that I needed their prayers to help me finish.
Almost 30 seconds later something incredible happened. Something I hope to never forget. This marathon experience from training to this moment had been mostly awful but what happened in the next 4 miles made it all worth it.
I was run/walking at this time. And then out of no where I heard a woman's voice.
"Hi, what is your name?" the woman said.
A bit puzzled I replied, "Jon".
"Hi Jon. I'm Carrie and I'm going to run the rest of this race with you."
I immediately tried to help her understand just how bad of shape I was in. I didn't want to hold her back.
At this point in the race it is what I like to call the "come to Jesus" period. It is truly every man for himself. People slow down. Their bodies start rejecting the run. A lot of things can happen, and certainly I am not the only person that was struggling. There were many others run/walking. So why me? Why did Carrie not take my 'no' for an answer? I was just a stranger.
"Come on. Let's go," she said.
I didn't really have a choice in the matter. One foot in front of the other I began the last 4 mile leg of this already very long journey.
I had no clue how long I would last but appreciated her willingness to stick through it with me. I thought maybe she would stick around for a half a mile at most. But she didn't. She was with me every step of the way. She would coach me on my breathing and tell me to raise my arms. She gave me check points to focus in on to help relieve the mental pain. When a hill would be ahead she would put her hand on my nape of my back and I would immediately feel relief. She knew exactly what to do to help.
I am sure she was awfully tired of my moaning, groaning and negative self talk. I was a pretty pathetic site at this point. She was determined to help me finish what I started and to finish it with pride.
Not long after we started running again I realized just what had happened.
God had answered my prayer. Instantly.
I am a faithful, God fearing man. I know he knows me and understands what I am going through, but it has been a long time since I have had an immediate answer of this kind. It is tender mercies such as this that bring everything I know and believe back to my remembrance. God knows and loves me individually and he knew what I was struggling with in that very moment. He didn't need to, but he prompted this woman to reach out and help me. I needed it. I believe wholeheartedly that without her I would have possibly given up on the race.
The miles passed. It was still slow, but they passed. As the finish line grew nearer, my emotions rose to the surface. I could barely compose myself. Somewhere along the 25th mile my foot tripped on a pot hole. My body went into complete spasms and I immediately thought the worst.
"Here I am, a mile away from the finish line and this is how I am going to go out".
Once again, had it not been for Carrie, I would have fallen to the ground and that likely would have been the end of my race. I can't imagine how that would have affected me mentally for much longer than that moment. What would I tell the people back home? All my supporters and cheerleaders along the way? What about my family that were waiting for me at the finish line? What would I tell my children? All of those thoughts crossed my mind... but fortunately, because of this incredible woman, I was able to shake off the spasms, pull myself together and finish what I started.
One of my favorite talks was given by Thomas S. Monson and is entitled, "Finishers Wanted". In that talk Monson outlines the marks of a true finisher. The second is the Mark of Effort. Monson says:
The Mark of Effort. Vision without effort is daydreaming; effort without vision is drudgery; but vision, coupled with effort, will obtain the prize.
Needed is the capacity to make that second effort when life’s challenges lay us low.
Stick to your task ’til it sticks to you;
Beginners are many, but enders are few.
Honor, power, place and praise
Will always come to the one who stays. Stick to your task ’til it sticks to you;
Bend at it, sweat at it, smile at it, too;
For out of the bend and the sweat and the smile
Will come life’s victories after a while.
—Author Unknown
Beginners are many... and enders are few. I have always thrived to be a finisher. I have proven to myself time and time again that I can do hard and difficult things. That is why I do crazy things like run a marathon. It isn't easy and it isn't always fun. But the lessons I learn from doing hard things always pay off and I know I have invested well.
So you are probably wondering how this story ends... I finished.
Actually, WE finished.
I will forever be grateful for this experience and for my answer to prayer. I also am grateful for my family and support system. They supported me from beginning to end. Without them it never would have been possible.
And of course in the end, no post or story would ever be complete with out my biggest fan and love of my life, Ashley. If it wasn't for her inspired text and immediate instinct to pray and ask others to pray I may never have finished. I love you Ashley and am so grateful you are patient with me and my crazy running antics :)
As for the future of running. I ran a 10K on the fourth of July... but I don't think I will hit the pavement again any time soon (never say never) but I will forever be grateful for my experiences out there on the course. It is through trials and adversity that we learn the most about our self and about the divine. Sometimes we need to just humble ourselves so much, even take ourselves to our breaking point, in order for us to realize that God does in fact exist and he knows our every need and will deliver us in even our darkest of moments (even if they are self inflicted). I am grateful for that knowledge and for the reminder once again that He lives. I hope I can continue to be present, and be aware for when he manifests himself in my life again.
"Therefore, dearly beloved...let us cheerfully do all things that
lie in our power, and then may we stand still, with the utmost
assurance, to see the salvation of God, and for His arm to be revealed"
Doctrine and Covenants 123:17
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