My Marathon Experience
by Candice Rodgers
cstar_23@msn.com
I finished my first marathon today! I ran it in 4 hours and 14 minutes. I really wanted to run it under 4 hours, but we had cold rain the whole 26.2 miles and my body took a turn for the worse because of it! Unfortunately, I was not dressed for the rain. My gloves were not waterproof, and I had taken off my soaked sweats and jacket at mile 4. Needless to say, I started to lose my body heat quickly because I had on a runner’s tank top and leggings and my shoes were soaked by Mile 2.
Thank goodness for the miracle that happened at around mile 18! Just as I was starting to feel the 2nd stage of hypothermia set in, a man in great shape (probably in his 60’s) asked if he could help me. During the run uphill, I could hear him telling the runner next to him not to stop, but to keep running. He said it would hurt more to stop. His words spoke to my inner being. It was at that moment that I felt like stopping. As I felt my body slowing down and my hands were becoming more and more stiff, he ran up behind me and said, “Come on. If I can do it, you can do it. I’m twice your age.”
Even though I cracked a smile, I could still feel my body slowing down.
“How can I help you?” he asked.
I jokingly said, “You can give me a piggyback.”
“I can’t give you a piggyback, but I can help you another way. I have a warm hat and some waterproof gloves. Would you like them?”
I was shocked. I didn’t want to take the ones he was wearing, because then he would be cold. He asked again, “Would you like them?”
Somehow I managed to nod my head. I was slowly becoming more and more incoherent. Then, the miracle happened as he reached in and gave me an extra pair of gloves and hat that he was carrying in his jacket. I couldn’t believe it! As soon as he could see that I couldn’t put them on by myself, he lovingly took the time out of his race time to put on my hat and gloves.
I wanted to cry, but was too exhausted. I thanked this kind man for helping me. Then, he told me his first name and where he was from, Lowell from Pocatello, Idaho. His first two numbers started with 17, but I can’t recall the last two numbers. He read my number 4240 and I told him my first name and that I was from Ivins, Utah. He said that perhaps we could find each other at the finish.
I never saw Lowell after that, but I remember running ahead with a renewed sense of warmth and strength and unconditional love from a stranger. To me, he was my angel. The guy who was with him offered me a liquid gel capsule of Aleve. I took it gladly. It was the exact kind of pain medicine that I had meant to bring with me, but I had forgotten it. How did he know the pain I was in? My knees were aching and my calves were on fire. He became my second angel. I didn’t get his name, but heard him say he was from Orem, UT.
I immediately felt that these earthly angels were sent to my rescue because of my mother’s prayers for me that day. Sure enough, when I asked my mom if she’d been praying for me, she said, “Yes, I woke up at 6:15 AM and could not go back to sleep. I was worried about the rain, and I could not stop thinking about you. I prayed for all of the runners and that guardian angels would protect you today.”
I know that my mother’s prayers saved my life today. I am so grateful that I was able to go the temple last Tuesday with my mom and perform washings and anointings. This blessing of the body was also essential to my race.
After I got home and soaked in our jetted bathtub, I looked up hypothermia on Wikipedia and was alarmed to read about the three stages that can occur. I had slipped into Stage 2 and quickly realized that I could have died today. Interestingly enough, the thought of dying during the marathon crossed my mind a couple of times before running it. However, I quickly pushed those feelings aside and focused on the positive. I told myself that my body was trained for this and could do this and that I would not be injured. I had also said a prayer that I would be able to perform to the best of my abilities.
The last 8 miles were incredibly painful. I relate it to the transition stage of labor. It was shortly after Mile 18, that I saw Ann Marie, the lady I had sat next to on the bus ride up to the start. She and I clicked right away and talked the whole ride up. She is from Aspen, Colorado, and this was her first marathon, too. We had waited in line together for the porta-potty and then started the race together, but it was dark and we became separated. So, I was quite surprised when I heard someone say, “Candice!” and looked back to see Ann Marie coming up behind me. She asked how I was doing, and I told her that I was not doing too well because of the cold. Fortunately, she said that she was feeling good and was able to pass me. However, she gave me some words of encouragement when she said with a smile, “We are in the single digits now. We only have 8 more miles to go!” If she only knew how grateful I was for her smiling eyes and words of encouragement as I had lost track of the miles left to go.
During those last 8 miles, I kept wondering how I was going to keep running with the intense pain I had started to feel in my calves and feet. I could feel my muscles tightening a few miles back and knew that the cold was not helping me stretch them out. I thought of my family and those that were waiting at the finish line for me.
Images of Josh and each of my children flooded my mind. I also saw my siblings waiting for me in my mind. I knew that I could keep running if I focused on them and not the shooting pain in my legs.
As I neared the last stretch with 4 miles to go, I focused on the people cheering us all on. With a lump in my throat, I kept on running through the pain, knowing that with each step I was getting closer and closer to the finish. I could not stop now. I had to complete the journey and finish strong.
On the homestretch, I painfully willed my legs to pick up the pace. I searched the sidelines for my loved ones. Where were they? Then, I saw them as I neared the finish line. They were all smiling and cheering me on! I smiled and waved and didn’t care how sore I was anymore.
As I crossed the finish line, the feeling of victory soared through my body. I couldn’t help but think of the man who gave me his hat and gloves, and I searched for him in vain through the crowd, quickly realizing that I might never see him again. However, I will always remember him and be forever grateful to him for his act of love and kindness to me, a complete stranger. Thank you, Lowell!
Love,
Candice
(We found out that Lowell finished at 4:04, Jacob (the guy from Orem) at 4:03, and Anne Marie at 4:06. They were all just minutes ahead of me! I am so proud of each of them and grateful for their kindness).
I love this narrative because it seems like marathon runners are often out to prove they can beat anything–including their body’s limitations–all by themselves, but Candice showed how she still reached her goals (and maybe only was able to reach them) by accepting help and strength from others–both those with more experience and other novices.
Is this not the message of “The Family Soup?” That sometimes we want to do it all by ourselves, and feel pressure to do so, but maybe it’s only possible if we share our resources and encouragement with others and partake of their support as well?
There’s a time for giving and a time for receiving, and The Family Soup lets you participate in whichever part you’re needing now.
Well done, Candice (the marathon and the narrative).
Janel, you are a true ‘fan.’
That was wonderfully said! I agree 100%. I love reading people’s comments because I gain more insight than I could on my own. Some of you email me your comments personally, and while I love hearing them, the other readers want to know what you thought too! So please share your comments. It doesn’t have to be long. You never know. It might help somebody else.