8 December 2001

Subject: The Marathon Man

Dear Ones,

 

Watching the recent NY Marathon on TV got me thinking about me running my first marathon. The year was 1979.... the place, Honolulu, Hawaii.

 

While watching the Honolulu Marathon in 1978 from  the comfort of my easy chair, I witnessed some people participating in this grueling 26-mile event in wheelchairs, some running on artificial legs, and others running for hours at the advanced age of 80-plus years.

 

I told Leavon I had made up my mind right then that come next December I was getting my big butt up out of that easy chair and was going to run the marathon. She replied, "You're crazy... you will kill yourself. Besides, why would you want to run a marathon?" My answer, "Because I have never run one before! You know, it the same reason men climb mountains.... they are there."

 

I knew it wouldn't be easy. After all, I was 45 years old, weighed in at about two biscuits short of 240 lbs, and my current physical activity consisted of "jogging" about 1 1/2 miles a day three days a week and playing a little golf and tennis.

 

I started training in early Spring 1979 with a group of former heart patients who were determined to take up running after having undergone various heart surgeries. We met early every Sunday morning in Kapiolani Park in downtown Honolulu and would take our short training runs while gazing out at the surfers on the blue waters of the Pacific Ocean. The setting was absolutely idyllic and it was great fun training with folks with this kind of determination. We all had one goal.... to FINISH the marathon no matter how long it took us.

 

It wasn't long before the word got around about the so-called Sunday morning "re-hab running clinic". That's when folks from "all walks of life" began to join our Sunday morning group to start their training for the marathon.... and that's when the real fun began.

 

We had some folks who just "walked in off the street", so to speak. One guy, in particular, I will never forget. I first met him when they bussed us out of town and then we had to run back to the park... some 14 miles. He was dressed in walking shorts, a regular "button-up-the-front" sport shirt and worn regular tennis shoes. He sat in the seat next to me on the ride out and talked incessantly all the way. He asked a thousand questions like, "Say, where did you buy those running shoes? How much did they cost? How about that running singlet you're wearing... where did you get it? Where did you find those running shorts you are wearing?" After about fourteen miles of questions, this "new friendship" was beginning to wear on me... just a little bit.

 

When we got off the bus, I walked away from my new-found friend, but he quickly "homed" in on me, again. He and I "stretched" together and that is when he "popped" the question, "Do you mind if I run along with you this morning?" How could I say no to such a delightful young fellow with such an inquiring mind. After all, it was obvious to me that it was going to be quite difficult for me to "shake" this one.

 

We began our run together with more questions being asked as we trotted along. But now the questions didn't seem to bother me any more. There was something else much more annoying. He had a pocket full of change and every time his left foot hit the ground the change would sound this awful "clinkety, clink".

 

After seven miles of "clinkety, clink", we finally reached our halfway water point where we all stopped for a drink. I thought to myself, "How can I "escape and evade" this fellow and that gosh-awful "clinkety, clink". Glancing up from the water fountain, I saw him bend down to tie his shoes. That was all I needed. I took off like a scalded ape leaving my friend tying his shoes and looking the other way.

 

I made it! Freedom at last! I had broken "the surly bonds of earth" and was now flying solo as I ran onward the last seven miles toward the park.

 

After I had run about five miles, I heard this very distinctive sound behind me. It was a sound quite familiar to me on this day. There was no denying what produces such a sound. It is made by a pocket full of change. The sound of "clinkety, clink" brought me back to earth and back to reality. My long-lost friend had found me, once again.

 

As I slowed a bit and looked back, he said, "Hey, we got separated at the water point and when I looked up from tying my shoes, you were gone."

 

Now, what could I say? What any red-bloodied runner would say if he were in my shoes, "Didn't know what happened to you. Thought you might have run on ahead when I was getting a drink." (God forgive, me!)

 

And then, it was my turn to ask a question, "When you saw that I was gone, how did you catch up and find me?" "Oh", he replied, "That was easy. I caught the first city bus that came by and rode it until I saw you up ahead. Then I asked the driver to let me off so we could run together." I thought to myself, "Well, that is really wanting to run with someone. Maybe, like every one of us, he just needs a friend. Lord, help me to be that friend."

 

We ran together the last two miles to the park and you know what.... I didn't even hear the "clinkety, clink" sounds anymore... and the questions didn't bother me anymore either. (Thank you, Lord, for friends!)

 

I pray you have a blessed Saturday and may you find a friend to "run" with.

 

Don

 

P. S.  It was a joyous day that December morning in 1979 when my friend and I crossed the finish line of the Honolulu Marathon after running together for 26 miles 385 yards.

 

 

 

Determined to Run Across the Finish Line

 

A Glance at My Two Greatest Fans

 

A Special Handshake from My Number 1 Fan

 

A Congratulatory Kiss from The Love of My Life

 

The Day After