And What | Learned From It.

OSTON, MASSACHUSETTS, April 15, 2002—From 1987 to 2001, it was

the same old story for me. Every year I was sure to be among the manic crowd watching the Boston Marathon. It was fun to be swept up by the overwhelming hype surrounding the world’s most notable running event. I was not a runner then, but this race had an inexplicable magnetism that lured me back every third Monday in April. I felt deeply inspired to watch thousands of runners make their way along the famous course, which includes my former town of Framingham. These incredible people of all ages, shapes, and sizes who performed such monumental running achievements were truly amazing. If they had the physical and mental capacity to run a marathon, why couldn’t I? The concept of running 26-plus miles seemed unfathomable to me, and for 14 years I completely doubted my ability to cover the distance. Yet every Patriots’ Day, while cheering along Route 135, I thought to myself, “Maybe next year.” Sure enough, the impetus to train for the following year’s race usually faded after less than a handful of abysmal threemile runs. Yes, I was hooked on Boston. I was a total Boston Marathon junkie. Only I was not a runner.

For some inexplicable reason, I finally was able to stick with a training program through summer and into the fall of 2001. I even persevered through the cold, slushy, icy winter months. This time, I was committed to run Boston! During the ensuing months, I became infatuated with growing stronger, increasing endurance, and contemplating the spiritual nature of running alone for hours at a time.

THE AGONY OF A FAILING MARRIAGE

During this time, my personal life was crumbling, as my marriage of seven years was heading toward divorce. Witnessing the central focus in my life slip away was more agonizing than anything I ever imagined. I felt betrayed, ashamed, and condemned to a living hell when my wife and best friend expressed her intention to divorce me.

Thankfully, having this structured marathon training program was a terrific way for me to focus on something healthy, meaningful, and productive. It provided me with enormous confidence to accept a challenge that I repeatedly had shied away from. I soon discovered an unexpected benefit of running that involved a conversion of useless, painful feelings into productive physical energy. I was able to sweat the emotional anguish out of my body by taking it out on the road. The harder I pushed my physical limits, the better I felt for the time being. What a discovery! I became addicted to distance running as a means to cope with the most harrowing experience I’ve ever known.

Moreover, my conditioning improved to levels I never considered possible, and I achieved times in 5K and 10K races that year that I have been unable to match since.

I am convinced that my threshold for physical pain then reached heights I will never be able to endure again, fueled by this extraordinary transformation of emotional anguish into physical performance. Without question, marathon training was exactly what I needed to cope with a failing marriage and the accompanying self-doubt.

TEAM IN TRAINING AND MARCELLA

Finally I was dedicated to a marathon training program and had my sights set squarely on the 2002 Boston Marathon. Yet I faced the problem of getting into the race. As an inexperienced newcomer, I seriously doubted my ability to qualify for Boston, let alone whether I even could complete a marathon on my first attempt. Having few options, I decided to apply to be a charity runner. Every year the Boston Athletic Association (B.A.A.) collaborates with charitable organizations by granting race entries for approximately 1,000 runners, many of whom are new to running or have been unable to qualify for Boston.

Being a charity marathon runner has its challenges. There is huge demand for these entries. Most charitable organizations screen lengthy essay applications to select those who best represent their purpose. Also, each charity runner is responsible for raising a significant amount of money. Training for a marathon is challenging enough, but charity runners also face constant pressure to generate financial support. If the minimum dollar amount raised is not met, each person must pay the difference. Despite these concerns, I certainly was up for the dual challenges, based largely on my overwhelming desire to run Boston combined with the uplifting side benefit of doing something to help others.

I cannot overstate how excited I was to receive the acceptance letter that confirmed I would run for Team In Training (TNT), the program administered by the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. It had become official. I would be among the field of runners for the 2002 Boston Marathon! I did cartwheels in my backyard!

Thad not anticipated the magnitude of personal satisfaction from being part of TNT. As an aspiring marathoner, I found that being part of such a wonderful support system made a world of difference compared with the unassisted trials and unknown elements encountered by people who train independently for their first marathon. TNT nicely blends training tutorship, camaraderie, and respectful consideration for the gift of health through fund-raising, awareness, and friendship. Even more, the program gave me structure, focus, motivation, confidence, and a meaningful reason to carry on with life as the world around me fell apart. During training season, the Saturday-morning meetings and group runs usually were the only uplifting aspects of my entire week. As team members, we celebrated the unity of our efforts, our purpose, and our accomplishments in a collaborative culture.

THE COACH IS ALL-IMPORTANT

The TNT coaching was first rate, lead by Rick Muhr and supported by his wife, Lori. Rick is an energetic, charismatic, highly motivated individual who had raced more than 30 marathons. He demonstrated leadership and selflessness for our team time and again and made it clear that he was there to serve us. Prior to joining TNT, I naively assumed that the sport of running was as simple as it gets. Yet there were finer aspects of marathon training to learn, which Rick made simple to understand and practice. His trainees, the majority of whom were green with inexperience like me, could not have been in better care. We needed him.

An added benefit, which I thoroughly appreciated, was training every week along the marathon course. The same streets I had driven for years now became

Linda Dudas

A Marcella—my hero and inspiration.

so familiar on foot that I anticipated the subtle hills, curves, and cracks in the road. During these training runs, I enjoyed letting my imagination run free, anticipating the race-day energy as I left Hopkinton, scampered from Framingham to Wellesley, ascended Heartbreak Hill on Commonwealth Avenue, and paced below the famous Citgo sign in Kenmore Square just one thrilling mile from the finish line. It was exhilarating to consider what would be a frenzy of hundreds of thousands of cheering spectators lining the streets and slapping high fives while I was actually dodging cars and hopping curbs along these busy roads.

Perhaps the greatest influence of my TNT experience involved being matched with a local leukemia patient. This custom introduces the charity runner to a beneficiary of the program, which enhances gratitude for the priceless gift of good health. This is how I met Marcella, a cheerful, sincere young woman living in Cambridge, Massachusetts, who had suffered from leukemia but currently was in remission.

Coming to know Marcella gave me an entirely new perspective and appreciation for life, an ironic twist considering that I was at a personal low point and close to giving up on myself. Over the coming months, we met several times to talk and became friends. Marcella walked me through her personal timeline of events, including when she was first diagnosed as being ill, received chemotherapy, became very frail, and was unable to care for herself. She endured long hospital stays and difficult treatments but finally regained her strength along the road to remission. I was moved to hear her talk about when she first fell ill and was diagnosed with leukemia—how she was overcome with paralyzing fear for her life and how she was confined to the hospital for weeks and would gaze out the window wanting to breathe the fresh air outside. On a lighter note, Marcella joked about the terrible hospital food and how she wished visitors would smuggle in for her, above all else, grape soda! Most inspiring is how she maintained a cheery outlook and passion for life while facing the greatest threat anyone ever could be burdened with.

Marcella was in my thoughts every day, motivating me to train harder and to be thankful for my blessings and maintain a positive outlook. Her spirit encouraged me to direct my attention periodically away from myself and toward other people and worthy causes. If it is true that people come into our lives for a reason, I must honor the significance of this blessed, chance encounter. I certainly needed her more than she needed me.

PATRIOTS’ DAY

April 15, 2002, was the annual running of the Boston Marathon. That wonderful day had been a long time coming for me. It was a momentary oasis during a disastrous year and one of the finest days of my life. I was on top of the world. My parents showed their typical, continual support by making the trip to see me

a s ‘6

A Breakfast with Marcella and my parents on marathon eve.

tun. They even accompanied me to the starting line in Hopkinton, well in advance of the noon start. We arrived early to walk around and enjoy the electricity in the air as thousands of people wandered about. I felt as energized as a child on Christmas morning!

It was a chilly, misty Patriots’ Day morning, which perfectly accentuated what had become an out-of-body experience for me. Strangely enough, I was spared the nervous energy you might expect of a first-time marathoner, as many fellow TNT runners admitted feeling. Rather, I let myself enjoy the comfortable, numbing sensation that consumed me from head to toe.

A few minutes before noon, the area still shrouded by alow-hanging, damp fog, the field of 15,000 runners lined up for the national anthem and opening ceremonies. It included a poignant tribute to the 9/11 tragedy that had occurred only seven months earlier. Understandably, considerable emotion filled the air, and I too was moved by the homage, reminding myself that several victims aboard the airplanes that crashed into the World Trade Center had lived or worked in Framingham. Still, this particular moment meant much more to me. I was overcome with both delight and pain. I considered the adversity that had overtaken me to realize that I would soon lose my marriage. Yet at the same time, like a reassuring wind at my back, I basked in the wonderful support offered by my family, Marcella, and TNT. They had consoled me along my journey to where I now stood: the starting

Linda Dudas

A The author soaks up Hopkinton’s prerace energy, with no clue to what was about to unfold.

line! I felt proud to recall the hundreds of training hours it had taken to prepare for this occasion and to reach the culmination of a personal dream that had been 14 years in the making. The overwhelming effect of this extraordinary mix of circumstances broke me down as I stood in place and wept quietly amid a sea of eager runners. Here I was. I had made it—ready to run the Boston Marathon on what would otherwise have been a dreary Monday morning.

My delicate emotional state was evident and attracted strange looks from the runners near me. But I remained inwardly focused, understanding the impossibility of trying to explain to others what was happening, while also enjoying it too much to interrupt such a delightful epiphany.

THE END IN SIGHT—SORT OF

The entire marathon distance was loaded with special highlights. My parents went above and beyond to watch me at miles seven and 21, having to negotiate busy traffic and road closures. I was unable to maintain composure as they cheered my arrival. Seeing my TNT coach, Rick, at mile 15 and other friends scattered along the course, and feeling the impressive aura cast by an endless mass of high-spirited spectators also tested my poise. When I topped the infamous Heartbreak Hill near mile 21, a chill shot through my body as the Prudential Tower and Hancock Tower appeared through a break in the trees. There it was, the finish line, just five miles away!

Surprisingly, my mind was totally clear and my body felt fresh. I was spared the aching, cramping, painful sensations I had been warned of, which hampered many of the runners around me. I was running high.

Until now, running with a finish-time goal had not been a consideration for me since I simply wanted to complete the marathon and to relish the experience. As I glanced at my watch, I was shocked to see that my elapsed time was only 2:37. By now, I was running faster than I ever had before over any significant distance. I felt torn between pushing hard to finish the race and not wanting this exceptional occasion to end. My rough math indicated that I would likely break 3:15 and have an outside chance for 3:10—my cutoff time to qualify for the next Boston Marathon. With all the anticipation of the past year, I had never contemplated this scenario for my first marathon. Could this really be happening? Why had this been so easy? This is Boston, after all.

Cavorting downhill past Boston College with a comfortable effort, feeling light on my feet and my mind exhilarated, I surged ahead of many groups of runners. Suddenly, a spectator shouted out in reference to my bib number, 15576, “Hey, look at that guy, he’s a 15!” Glancing around, I saw that I was among runners who mostly wore numbers in the 4,000 and 5,000 range. Since the B.A.A. assigns bib numbers sequentially to runners with the fastest qualifying times and starts them in that order, I marveled about the possibility that I could have passed 10,000 runners. Who? Me? Although it seems absurd, it was yet another mythical element to what is likely the most surreal adventure of my life.

The final five miles passed much too quickly as I reveled in this remarkable experience. This far into the race, the spectators along Beacon, Hereford, and Boylston streets were packed several deep on both sides of the road. They shouted at the top of their lungs, which formed a scream tunnel that even would rival the Fenway faithful cheering a game-winning home run. Such a fantastic experience seemed to acknowledge my personal 15 minutes of fame, yet I was just one among a mass of marathoners bounding toward the finish line in Copley Square. I was blown away by the reception. Everyone who has run Boston can attest to the magnificence of making the final turn from Hereford onto Boylston and then seeing the finish line only 3 1/2 blocks away, as the deafening cheers escort them over the most hallowed ground in marathon history. Completely stunned by my performance, I finished in 3:13, placing 4,065 among 14,573 finishers. What?! Did I just do this? It was my finest moment in 2002.

Thad just begun my running career, but this was undoubtedly my most unforgettable marathon experience. It exceeded many of the fantasies I had when training months earlier along the back roads of Framingham. Fantasies can be very powerful; 14 years of these dreams are what inspired me to start running in the first place. The timing of becoming a marathon runner could not have been more opportune. Since I had not thought of running Boston that well, I remain convinced that my grief was the fuel that converted into stores of physical strength and endurance that day. As evidence, I have struggled considerably during each of the past five Bostons and have been unable to duplicate the extraordinary result

of my first, having finishing times ranging from 3:21 to 3:59. Clearly, the power of running on emotion cannot be overstated.

Soon after, I did lose my wife. I still struggle with the betrayal. Rather than my marriage lasting forever as I trusted it would, perhaps it will be my spirit to run that will be everlasting. It will be a good life.

Author’s note: In memory of my departed friend, Marc Witkes, who encouraged me last year during our weekly runs to write this story.

And What | Learned From It

It’s a cliché, but don’t let go of a dream. Despite 14 years of indecisiveness and disappointment with myself for sitting on the sideline of the Boston Marathon, | finally made it happen. Am | glad | did! Being a marathon runner is among the most satisfying accomplishments in my life.

Running is a terrific resource to cope with stress and to solve problems. Whether dealing with the complexities of a failing marriage or even with trivial elements of the day, running helps to align my mind, body, and spirit. No matter how troublesome a day is, when running | feel clarity of purpose and self-confidence. What a payoff!

| try to savor my marathon experiences as they happen (although | occasionally need to remind myself of this). Like many other people who are goal oriented, | thrive on continuous improvement and expect returns on the investments | make in myself. Inevitably, | sometimes feel disappointment for not having run a PR since 2002—my first year of marathon racing. In reconsidering the circumstances during that time, however, | accept this by understanding that my performance was driven by emotional factors that can’t be duplicated. So in a sense, | rose above my potential and exceeded my ability in 2002. | will always treasure knowing that | have run my perfect marathon.

Support charity runners with encouragement and cut them some slack. Yes, charity runners are controversial to some serious distance runners, especially at Boston. But they’re doing something wonderful by giving back to society. At Boston, they are lined up at the back of the pack and will not obstruct faster runners. And the number of charity runners doesn’t prevent qualified runners from entering, since Boston has only met its capacity once in the six years | have run. Consider for yourself or encourage someone you care about to run for charity. The experience will change your life.

Ever notice how easy it is to bond with strangers at a race? Running creates friendships between people from all walks of life and locations and enhances interpersonal communication and understanding. It permits us to be influenced by the strengths of others and to grow as individuals. Keep running. tt