My First Marathon

At the 23-mile mark I asked myself, “What are you doing here? You must be crazy!”

I STARTED running to keep a friend company. I didn’t like it. It was cold and my muscles were sore. Then I began to like it! I felt refreshed, slept sounder, lost weight, breathing came easier and my back stopped aching.

I ran off and on for about a year, then started thinking about the New York marathon. Could I finish it? I knew it would be tough. I guess that’s what made it a challenge. Each mile I ran became easier. Finally, one day two and a half months before the event I ran 22 miles (35 km), and I knew it was possible for me to do it. I signed up.

The day of the race, up at 5:30, ate a pancake breakfast for carbohydrates, did stretching exercises, and left with my wife for the race.

For the first three miles I looked around at the other runners. Young, old, some in fancy outfits, others in cutoff jeans. People two and three deep along the streets. Some would call out encouragement, others held up signs, “We’re proud of you, Dad!” or “You can make it, Bob!” A father and 10-year-old son ran together. “Why are you doing this?” I asked the father. “To do something with my son.” They finished together four hours later.

At the 11-mile mark I was running easily​—just an easy Sunday run. Ahead I could see heads bobbing up and down, behind me the same, a sea of bobbing heads. My ears were filled with the sound of thousands of pounding shoes. I felt like part of a special army invading New York city.

Most of the way I thought of what I had read about running long distances. Relax, breathe well, don’t go beyond your limit, listen to your body. Watch out for uneven roads and potholes. Drink water before the race, and every three miles during it. How do you help a heatstroke victim? How do you know when you’re becoming one? I came to a man who had skipped two water stations​—he was overheated, developed cramps and never finished.

At the 20-mile mark many of the runners “hit the wall.” This is when you feel you can’t go any farther, your muscles stiffen, you think you might get cramps. From then on it’s willpower. For me it came as I turned into Central Park, at the 23-mile mark. I asked myself, “What are you doing here? You must be crazy!” Each little hill became a mountain.

I began to look for my wife’s little face​—then I’d know the finish line was near. An ambulance came from the opposite direction, and I think, “It could have been me in it.” Then someone yelled out to me, “You can make it!” and threw me half an orange. All the way people had lined the streets two and three thick, but now they formed a corridor five and six deep cheering you on as if you were the winner.

I was an hour behind the winner, but I did finish, and was suffused with a feeling of accomplishment. At the finish I was given something to drink, my time was recorded, and I was presented with a medal to show I had finished. My wife was there with a big hug and kiss and clean clothes for me.

That night at home I lay in bed in the dark looking up at the ceiling and smiling. I ran and I finished the largest marathon in the world and I felt tremendous!

There is another race, however, that I feel far more tremendous about. The apostle Paul talked about it: “All the runners at the stadium are trying to win, but only one of them gets the prize. You must run in the same way, meaning to win. All the fighters at the games go into strict training; they do this just to win a wreath that will wither away, but we do it for a wreath that will never wither. That is how I run, intent on winning; that is how I fight, not beating the air.”​—1 Cor. 9:24-26, The Jerusalem Bible.

I may spend an hour or two a week jogging, but as a minister I spend over 50 hours a week in a race like the one Paul talked about. The marathon takes endurance for three or four hours; the Christian race lasts a lifetime. “Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us,” Paul said. Elsewhere he admonished: “Keeping a tight grip on the word of life, that I may have cause for exultation in Christ’s day, that I did not run in vain or work hard in vain.”​—Heb. 12:1; Phil. 2:16.

Bodily training is of some benefit to me, but I always keep it in its subordinate place, realizing that training in godly devotion is far more beneficial, leading to everlasting life. (1 Tim. 4:8) I wish all runners realized this.​—Contributed.