"Marathon Sunday"

Last week I made a case for living what we might refer to as Aristotle's "examined life." We talked about ways we might be able to deepen our lives, become clearer in our self-understanding, more self-conscious about what we are feeling, so that we can be in better touch with our priorities and our beliefs. We talked about meditation practice or doing some growth-producing reading. Our tendency is to get so caught up in the superficial tasks of our busy lives that we make no room whatsoever for centering and prioritizing. When we live this way, we can lose sight or, this may sound strange, we can forget what's meaningful. We noted that it is wise to develop a time and place, and a pattern that will allow us to slow down and to think - a place to listen to ourselves - to remind ourselves of who we are and what we value, and to assess whether the lives we are living are pointed in that direction, or whether our days have become a random pattern or a well-developed unexamined habit.

How we examine our lives is different from one person to another. I find listening to music conducive to thoughtful pondering, and walking in nature without talking. It's helpful to occasionally do some growth-producing reading or lie in bed awake before getting up, and let my mind wander through recent events, consider my relationships with people, my interactions and concerns. And actually, it's inaccurate to say this process is one of "mind" because I find truth or insight are more apt to surface when the mind hasn't kicked into gear with its own agenda. I find we house an honesty or a kind of knowledge within us that's deeper than mind, that I have to give time to surface.

Running for some people is just this kind of activity.

I remember clearly the powerful emotions I felt when watching my first marathon at street level - my brother Gene was running. The marathon that a television viewer sees pretty much follows the runners who will place first, second and third - it appears to be a conventional, if long, race. But when you watch a marathon on the ground it becomes such a different event it might be from another planet.

This is a race where most of the competitors give very little consideration to the individual who might be winning before the cameras - They're not running to win, in that sense. Most runners are competing against themselves, for their own personal best. For many, their pride will be in crossing the finish line at all. There are many different definitions of winning in this race. My brother Gene had run a marathon before and done fairly well. This time the goal he set was to run it in three hours or less - this would qualify him to formally enter the Boston marathon, an idea that had caught his imagination. I knew the hours of practice he had put in – 10 mile days, 12 mile days, 60 mile weeks – so much dedication and perseverance. Marathoners know that preparation is essential for a good race, and there is no short-cut to endurance - it has to be earned.

Larry and I watched as Gene started his race from deep within the thundering herd. Then we took off for a location near the eighteen mile mark where we would hand him a bottle of water. Eighteen miles in, most of the runners looked to be in their own psychic space, determined, pushing the limits of their endurance, some hurting. Here and there an older woman, college students, so many regular people - housewives, men in their seventies. I wondered what motivated them all. That we are a quest-driven species is made evident by the popularity of marathons as well as by our Everest-climbers and our English Channel swimmers... we have a fascination with our own endurance.

Buddhist wisdom teaches that one cannot attain happiness without developing endurance because someone who has no endurance cannot overcome difficulties. Jesus said, "By your endurance you will gain your souls."

Did I say the marathoners were in their own psychic space? Well, that isn't really true. The entire 26 miles was lined with cheering spectators, making it a challenge to work our way in to be able to hand off water to my brother. You know, yesterday I found myself driving behind a truck that had Yankees suck professionally painted on the back, looking somewhat like a business logo. Getting carried away is considered fair play in sports where even the lowest paid athlete makes an astronomical salary. This kind of cheering on the home team but villainizing the opponents may help to release tension, but it teaches us bad life habits. Marathon spectators play a positive role in the race in a way that may be unique in sports. Like me, many were posted in strategic spots to cheer on their loved one, but I was moved to see how passionately most spectators root for all the runners. They especially cheer and encourage anyone who is struggling, "Eight miles, you can do it" "You're doing great, lady in the blue hat!" Spectators literally lift up sagging runners with their encouragement. They seem to admire and are concerned for every entry, and identify with and are moved by their struggle.

I hoped my brother wouldn't hit the proverbial wall, as Larry and I jockeyed ourselves in for the finish. As Gene approached the finish line, his self-appointed goal of three hours was fast approaching. A huge clock read 2 hours 59 minutes, with the second hand ticking off time. Gene looked pale and spent, unable to speed up. But he had done it. He had won his personal race. He kept walking, accepting a water from someone, and didn't say much.

In the meantime, other runners of all shapes, sizes and ages continued to finish, many smiling through their discomfort at the proud reception their loved ones were giving them. An hour or so later, as we were leaving Newport, the streets were still blocked off ,and runners were still flowing through the city and the cheering crowds were still full of passion. After we got home to Middleboro a live sports update named the first, second, third place finishers. Behind the reporter one could see stragglers, some six hours after the start, still running. What the broadcaster knew, but didn't have time to explain, was that her report had barely touched on the number of true winners at Newport that day. The best clue to be had was in the occasional cheers that could still be heard as occasional runners crossed over.

I'm sure you know about the wheelchair division. Did you know a blind person can qualify for the Boston Marathon by running a course in under five hours? If you have a prosthesis, its eight hours. No one is left out.

I have a problem with some television commentators during Olympic events because they are so apt to save all the praise and glory for the first place winner, and talk about the number two athlete as the one who lost this time, and who will have to wait for more years to try again. They've got it all wrong - anyone who made second place at the Olympics - is a winner, or should be.

The genius of the marathon is that it turns out winner upon winner upon winner.

Some of you may be old enough to remember the incredible Olympic marathon that took place in Mexico City in 1968. The world watched on television as runners raced for the gold. At what was assumed to be the end of the marathon, the bronze, then the silver, and then the gold medals were presented and then the recipients stood proudly as the national anthem was played. After the ceremony, the attention of the crowd turned elsewhere... .until suddenly, sometime later, a murmur throughout the crowd indicated that something was happening... the marathon, in fact, was not over!

A runner was still on the course. The other marathoners had finished over an hour ago. But here came this young man from Tanzania, limping his way agonizingly toward the finish line. You could see pain on his face and in his gait.

He had been injured in a fall early in the race. Now his knees were bleeding, his leg muscles were cramping, and dehydration setting in; yet, he kept on running. He crossed the finish line and fell to the ground.

A television reporter later told the story of the runner's injury and his determination to run in spite of his pain. Then the reporter said to him, 'You were injured early and hurting badly. Why didn't you just quit? You knew you couldn't win. Why not just stop? And the athlete replied, "My country did not send me five thousand miles to start the marathon. They sent me here to finish the marathon." (Moore, James. Attitude Is Your Paintbrush, pp. 61-62)

We teach our children the story of the tortoise and the hare in which the message is that slow and steady wins the race. It's a truth we sometimes forget .

We are all runners on the course of life. Let's try to run races which leave no one out. Yes, preparation is required of us, and endurance - but the thrill of victory can belong to each one of us as we face our own unique challenges. We all have our Heartbreak Hills. You've known times when you've wanted to just walk off the course, quit, when you pretend you don't want a goal because you've given up on attaining it. These are times when a caring voice can make all the difference . Whether we admit it or not, we all benefit from being noticed and encouraged when our spirits sag. In life this may take the for of a neighbor who has a few nice words, or a parent, a colleague or someone you don't even know. Just as we are all runners on the course of life, we all are given the task of being cheer leaders on the sidelines as well. Cheerleader is an important life job. Do you do it well?