17. Run a Half Marathon

Yes, I have run a half and even a full marathon before, but this challenge was more than legitimate.  My last solo distance race was the Richmond Marathon of 2010.  It was my fourth marathon.  At the time, I had no idea that I was going to take myself out of running for so long. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but for the past five years it just seems like there has always been a reason NOT to run the Richmond (or any other long race) again.

In fall of 2010, as I was a month away from race day and in the thick of training, my world stopped for a moment.  I clicked the CNN headline about the death of a swimmer, not envisioning that I would read about the death of a swimmer whom I knew.  Fran Crippen was a swimmer at UVA; we met at a student athlete dinner when I was on the crew team. We even took a class together.  I didn’t know him well; we were more acquaintances than friends.  But reading about Fran Crippen,  Fran who was full of life, Fran who I have cheered for in the stands of UVA swim meets, Fran who was a sure contender for the 2012 Olympics, and Fran who drowned during an open water race in the United Arab Emirates, brought my world to a halt.  It was shocking.  It was sad.  It seemed unfair.

Even though I did not know Fran well, his death haunted me.  I don’t know if it was because we were both swimmers, or because he was the first person I knew who died while I was a nurse and having to contend with death on a daily basis, or if it was because he died while swimming, but I could not shake the sadness and the horror of his death. I even had nightmares about it.   

As Marathon day came, I dedicated my race to Fran.  Fran was known for swimming his heart out of every practice and race.  I wanted to honor him by running a race worthy of his legacy. I wanted to PR the heck out of that course. I wanted to leave everything I had on that race course.  Race day came. I felt the most physically prepared I had ever been.  The gun went off. I started well, I was consistent, and when it came time to dig deep and give it my all…I couldn’t.  I can’t explain it. Physically it was there, but mentally it just wasn’t. 

 

Mid-race I changed my strategy.  I decided that instead of crushing the race, I was going to enjoy the race.  I took notice of every smile on the course.  I slapped a high-five to every small hand that was extended.  I noticed the beauty of the leaves I usually rush past.  I had fun.  Instead of the pain being in my legs, it was in my heart as I carried Fran with me.  As I crossed the finish line 4 minutes slower than the year before, part of me was sad that I had disappointed Fran.  Yet, the larger part of me was pretty sure that Fran was smiling down at me from heaven…and not really disappointed in how we had run the race. 

That was my last solo distance race. I didn’t walk away knowing I was going to take a break from running; it just seemed like other things got in the way of running races…until I found some new perspective.

On March 16, 2014, sixteen year-old Cameron Gallagher approached the start line of the Shamrock Half Marathon alongside her best friend Abby Donnelson.  This race was their first half-marathon; it was the completion of a journey to reach their goal they had made months before.  They ran the race well; they fought hard the battle against fatigue.  They crossed the finish line.  And then suddenly, Cameron collapsed into the arms of her parents.  Her heart had gone into an undiagnosed arrhythmia; she died moments later.

Cameron is (and she always will be) the daughter of my dear friend, childhood mentor, and dance instructor, Grace Handy Gallagher.  I encountered Cameron briefly in a chance meeting at my cousin’s birthday party.  Similarly to Fran, her passing was shocking, unimaginably sad, and seemed unfair.  Yet very quickly, the community, led by her parents and siblings, rallied to birth Cameron’s legacy with the SpeakUp 5k.  Cameron had struggled with depression; she wanted to bring awareness to this hidden plight by hosting the “SpeakUp 5k.”  Upon her death, her parents found the detailed outlines of her plan.  Amidst their grief, they turned to her for inspiration in bringing the “SpeakUp 5k” to life. (Please take the time to read more here: http://speakup5k.com/).

The inaugural SpeakUp 5k occurred on a beautiful fall day in September 2014.  Over 3,500 people ran Cameron’s race to honor her legacy.  As I ran alongside my six year old niece, I knew that race wasn’t about the time on the clock, but the beauty of the life it represented.

Cameron’s parents wanted to form a race team to run the Shamrock Half Marathon; the same race course where Cameron’s goal was achieved and her legacy born one year ago.  With this news, it seemed like a great time to come out of distance race retirement.  

 

Seeing Cameron’s parents, David and Grace, at the start line surrounded by over 250 SpeakUp-ers was one of the most inspirational moments I have ever witnessed.  When the race got tough and my legs got tired, I thought of Cameron.  When I felt weak, I thought of the strength and faith of David and Grace and knew I could keep going. When I encountered another SpeakUp-er, we would encourage each other with Cameron’s mantra, “Let’s finish this.” 

I crossed the finish line with a PR and had confidence Cameron was smiling down at all of us running for her that day – PR or not.  Cheering for her now 17-year old best friend Abby, as she crossed the finish line of the Marathon was unfathomably poignant and inspirational.

Fight. Finish. Faith. 

Cameron and Fran were both amazing people.  Even though I hardly knew them in their lives, I have been blessed by their presence immensely.  They both lived lives worthy of inspiration.  I encourage you to take the time to learn more about them and their legacies.  I promise you that you too will be blessed!