"Paved paths. Gravel roads. Dirt trails. Old wooden bridges over swift running creeks. Sidewalks. The marathon presented us with a variety of terrain and a mix of Alaskan scenery."
Marathons -- if the idea scares you, perhaps walking a marathon would be more your speed. Here one writer shares her heartfelt story of walking the Midnight Sun Marathon in Anchorage, Alaska.
"Runners," I heard someone yell. As I turned my head to look back, the first of more than 2,200 runners in the Annual Mayor's Midnight Sun Marathon in Anchorage, Alaska, were fast approaching. I joined in the cheering, "Go runners!" For the next few hours, runners of all ages and shapes and sizes would be passing me by. I continued to cheer. After all, I had 22 more miles to go. But not as a runner, I was one of the 860 walkers who had started out just one hour before.
The Mayor's Midnight Sun Marathon is one of the few in the country that invites both runners and walkers to participate in the race. But what brought so many of us to Alaska's largest city was the Leukemia Society of America's "Team in Training" program.
As part of a national fund-raising effort, teams are formed in cities throughout the country. The program combines training runners/walkers for the ultimate physical challenge -- a marathon -- with fund-raising to help find a cure for Leukemia and related cancers. So on June 21, the longest day of the summer, which in Alaska is 19 hours and 21 minutes, over 3,000 people stepped from behind the start line to achieve a personal goal of 26.2 miles.
Paved paths. Gravel roads. Dirt trails. Old wooden bridges over swift running creeks. Sidewalks. The marathon presented us with a variety of terrain and a mix of Alaskan scenery. The stunning Chugach Mountains towered beyond us. Thick, wooded foothills surrounded us. We even moved through picturesque neighborhoods and local parks. But the most challenging leg of the race led us down old Army tank trails full of rocks, ruts and potholes. Leave it to the Alaskans to make sure our experience was nothing short of adventurous.
Each mile marker was a great accomplishment. All along the way, people were talking, cheering and encouraging each other. Aid stations offered water, Gatorade and cut-up oranges. Volunteers helped with twisted ankles, blistered feet, cramped muscles and struggling bodies. But almost everyone persevered. After all, the vast majority of the runners/walkers were doing it in honor of a child, father, mother, grandparent, brother, sister or friend who is running another kind of race -- one against a killer disease.
"I was motivated by the families and patients who are stricken with Leukemia," said Pat Brooks from South Carolina. She walked the 26.2 miles while her daughter, Kim Brooks, ran it. "Just when I thought my legs might give way or my knees hurt, a person would pass by with a picture of a child or loved one with Leukemia attached to the back of their shirt, I'd see that and keep on going." Pat added, "Compared to what patients with Leukemia go through, a marathon is nothing. I'm proud I did it and raised money for such a good cause. It was one of the most exciting things I've done in my life."
Right before our eyes, a story unfolded that symbolized the challenge of the marathon and the Leukemia Society's fight for a cure. An 11-year-old boy, Eric Nelson Iverson from Omaha, Nebraska, who had waged his own battle against Leukemia for five years, proudly crossed the finish line with his mother holding one hand and a special friend holding the other. But what touched our hearts and brought tears to our eyes, was the fact that this special friend, John Burke of Lexington, North Carolina, had saved this young boy's life just two years before. He had donated his bone marrow.
The aches and pains in my own legs seemed to subside as I watched the trio hug in triumph. The marathon had truly been the most moving experience of my life.
More than seven hours after we started, the last member of our team crossed the finish line. We celebrated. Instead of Gatorade, we filled our cups with champagne and toasted our accomplishment. Exhilarated and exhausted, we walked to catch a bus back to our hotel. As I limped along, I became filled with emotion. I had not only walked a marathon but I had finished it - all 26.2 miles.
Alaskan Marathon Facts
Elevation at start: 220 feet above sea level
Elevation at finish: 90 feet above sea level
Sunrise: 4:22 a.m.
Sunset: 11:43 p.m.
Average Temperature at start: 55 F
Average Temperature at finish: 65 F
Time Limit: seven hours for runners, eight hours for walkers
No comments:
Post a Comment