The Cheering Section

You did it!!!

I am not a runner, so going to watch a marathon was a totally new experience for me. I didn’t know what to expect, and wasn’t even sure how one “watches” a marathon anyway. I learned a lot over the course of the day. Some logistics, for sure. But more about what running a marathon means to people.

As the first runners returned from the course and neared the finish line, the crowds of people were pressed against the fence, cheering them on, holding up signs and screaming out to their runners that they did it. Some of the runners looked exhausted as they crossed the line; pain was etched on the faces of a few. But more often, runners sprinted toward the finish, smiles on their faces and arms in the air, urging the crowd to celebrate with them and make some noise. They’d just run 26.2 miles! Cheer for them!

It was exhilarating to watch, but I was still mystified by the number of people that train and run these marathons. Twelve thousand people participated in the USAF Marathon I attended. I was there to cheer on my son and his friends who were running in memory of one of their Air Force buddies who’d just died in an accident. They wore shirts with their friend’s name on them. He was supposed to run, too.

They weren’t the only ones running in memory of someone. Other people ran in teams honoring loved ones. Others walked with the person they were honoring. Some were overcoming physical limitations and pushing themselves to see whether they could do it. They did.

My husband is training to run a marathon. A promise he made to himself if he ever quit smoking. He quit six months ago and hopes to run his first marathon in six more months. He’s the one who reminded me that every runner there has a story; every one has a motivating factor that has brought them to running.

I always thought of running as simply a form of exercise. And couldn’t understand why people would push themselves so hard that they could cause injury. My son and his friends were nearly crippled after the marathon ended. Their knees hurt, their feet were injured; they had muscle cramps and tender muscles and seemed to be in excruciating pain. But they finished. They ran 26.2 miles, pushing past the pain, after hitting “the wall”. They ran across the finish line in Keith’s honor, and their own. And they want to do it again someday.

I am still not a runner. But now I can appreciate a little better that marathons aren’t just about the running. And that even those runners who straggle in hours after everyone else deserve a cheering section at the finish line. They have all accomplished something incredible. Next time I’ll be standing there cheering and screaming and holding a banner. You did it!