Why Marathoning?

I started a topic on the general forum before Jason started this group, so I thought I would repost the link here.  The other thread turned more into a blog anyway, so it's probably best I also repost the original message below. http://www.therealspot.org/forum/topics/why-marathoning

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As a seven time marathoner who also loves the sport of bodybuilding (yes, bi-polar sports I know!!), I am often asked why do I marathon, when I expend all that effort under the weights also trying to get big. This morning I was cleaning out some emails and other items, and I was reminded of a message I sent to friends and family after the 2006 Marine Corps Marathon in D.C., where I earned a time of about 3:40. The time probably put me in the top 8% or so of all runners that day, so I had done pretty well.

Why do I love marathoning? Simply, it is a sport that can bind people together and show you things about yourself and others you never dreamed of learning. There's no better way for me to explain it than to post the email I sent the day after the 2006 race.

God bless

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From: Steve
To: Family and Friends
Date: 2006

Upon returning from running the Marine Corps Marathon the weekend in Washington DC, I saw one of the most interesting, perspective changing, and seemingly “minor” life occurances that sometimes, in our rush to "live life" go unnoticed.

After having seen many other runners waiting in the terminal proudly sporting their golden yellow Marine Corps Marathon finishers’ shirts, my buddy, his wife and I were getting on the plane.

Tired and quite sore from the day before, we were taking part in the well-known, often despised drill of walking down the aisle of the plane. Walking through first-class, as is human nature, we probably felt the common feeling that those sitting in first probably thought they were better than us.

Next was the coach cabin.

In the first row of coach we saw a lady, likely in her late 50s, reading aloud a book to her companion, an adult roughly in his early 30s, and he was also proudly sporting the same shirt my buddy and I were wearing.

A simple glance among the three of us made a comment that we were all thinking. "How odd... Looks like the runner's mom went with the 30-something guy and still enjoys reading to him." Even odder, it looked like he liked it, as we noted the light-hearted grin on his face as he looked down taking in the story being read. This was not "normal" we thought with the passing glance. “While I could see a 30-something inviting his mom to come watch the marathon, do 30-somethings and mothers really act like that in public”, we thought.

But half the way through the flight came the experience that I think I'll remember the rest of my life. The man was blind, as evident by a kind stewardess who offered him a walk down the aisle to stretch his sore legs. He joked and laughed with her as he thanked her graciously, noting how great it was to stretch them.

My buddy and I, both sighted and with all our God-given faculties, pushed each other the day before. We wouldn't let each other quit because we knew each other well - competitive, to say the least. And like marathons I ran with him in the past, we woke up the next morning sore, talking about the day before, justifying our competitiveness and time on the clock by comparing ourselves to other marathoners, smug in what we achieved.

We often make quick judgments about the world around us with reference to our "internal thinking" or social norms about what is good or right. Being rash to judge the efforts of others by our own or society’s measure sometimes is hubris, and sometime it takes more than a passing glance to see it.

I never asked the blind man what his time was. It didn't matter. His walk down the aisle proved that.