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Wednesday, December 23, 2015

Mark and Shannon Smith: Marathoners!

First and foremost...Thank you EVERYONE who donated and helped us meet our fundraising goal!

So...I am a marathoner! I still can't believe I hold that title...but I have the medal to prove it ;) I have thought a lot about how I wanted to share about race day. I decided (after writing and deleting, writing and deleting) the most accurate way to share is by using the emotions from the movie Inside Out. There are so many feelings that you experience while training for a marathon, but on race day, those emotions go to a whole new level.

Before I begin, let me say that nothing and no one could have prepared me for how hard training for and running a marathon can be. I am not a runner. I do enjoy running, but God did not build me as a runner. I am not long and lean. I do not move like a gazelle. I can't run and talk at the same time...I have to focus on my breathing. The beginning of our training was fun. I actually looked forward to our short and long runs. We were actually committing to doing something I wanted to do for years. Then the weeks of training dragged on and running wasn't very fun. We were all kind of over running and just wanted race day to get here. We were all battling some sort of injury. Mark was having knee issues, our friend Chev was battling an IT band issue, our friend Angela kept injuring her hamstring, and I was still dealing with my sciatica and these nasty blisters that kept appearing on my little toes (one never realizes how important the little toes are until they are broken or injured). But we continued on. And I'm glad we did. I found this poster on Pinterest. It isn't entirely accurate. It isn't a miracle that we finished or that we even started...the miracle is that we continued.


Race Day...


Before the race...I just love how my fuel belt makes my hips look ginormous 😁 We were scared, excited, cold, and ready to get it over with already!


Joy, excitement, anticipation, great expectations...all things that raced through my gut and head while jumping up and down to keep warm while the pre-race formalities took place...the welcome, the "thanks for running for the great cause of St. Jude" speech, and the Star Spangled Banner...which I think was the slowest version I had ever heard. To start the race off, I was excited. I had bandaged my little toes up in hopes that the nasty blisters would stay away. I was excited because I was running along and I couldn't tell my toes were bandaged. My thought was since I couldn't feel them, they were going to work.  Gosh I was thrilled! And I started my race off great. We ran through the St. Jude campus (I think around mile 5) where a few of the patients who were up to sitting in the cold, cheered us on. There were several families representing patients past and present cheering us on along the way as well even beyond the St. Jude campus. Seeing their appreciation for the cause we were running for not only filled my eyes with tears, but it flooded my heart with joy as well.


Disgust, frustration, doubt...questioning myself why in the world I had ever thought I could actually accomplish this monumental task. At some point around mile 8, I started to get discouraged. I noticed that the leg pain of my sciatica was starting earlier than it had in any of my previous long runs. I also started feeling my little toes. My pace started slowing down some, and I was beyond frustrated. I'm pretty sure at one point I said out loud, "I suck at running." Disgust would continue to creep into my head at various points of the race...thankfully God placed people in my path that would help push Disgust aside and help Joy sneak back in...


Fear and defeat. At mile 10 I felt the blisters on my two toes pop. It hurt. My bandages were pinching the loose and new skin that was exposed. I was so afraid that the blisters would slow me down to the point that I wouldn't reach mile 19 by 1:30...it was at that time that if runners had not reached the 19 mark that they would be picked up by a bus and taken to the finish line, unable to complete their race. I started the race with that thought in my mind. I was NOT going to be one of the ones to get picked up. I had trained too hard and too long for my race to be cut short.

After hobbling for a few minutes I decided it would probably be easier to run without the bandages than with them, so I stopped. There wasn't anywhere to sit, so I was leaning against a building trying to balance and get my shoe and sock off. I had a sweet man, who was also a Hero Runner, stop and ask if I was ok. When I took my shoe off and he saw my sock covered in blood, he offered to stay with me and let me use him to balance as I took care of my toes and got my socks and shoes back on. I am so thankful for him letting me use him for support. I knew if I sat on the ground there is no way I could have gotten back up. He also encouraged me as I was getting situated. He said very confidently, "You only have 3.1 miles to go! Think of how awesome those blisters are going to feel when you cross the finish line!" It was then that I turned my racing bib to him to reveal that I was running the full marathon. He froze and could only say, "Oh!" Bless his heart. He tried to remain positive. As I started running again, he gave me some more encouraging words. Though I was crying, I smiled and told him thanks, and did my best to push the pain (and fear) aside...and try to find Joy to carry me on.


I don't think I ever really experienced the emotion of Anger, but I'm pretty sure a driver and a police officer each had a brush with this emotion around mile 16...about this time, the course went through a busier part of Memphis. There was one especially large intersection we had to go through where police officers were letting one or two cars go if there was enough space between groups of runners. This one particular officer was letting a couple of cars go, but told the third car to stop since the runners were getting really close to their intersection. Well, the third vehicle's driver was done waiting, and didn't listen to the officer. The officer proceeded to yell "STOP" and hold up his hand, but the driver continued to drive through the intersection...if the runners hadn't been paying attention, one could have easily been injured. The police officer eventually kicked (yes, straight up kicked) the car as it passed by. At that moment, the car stopped, rolled their window down and yelled at the police officer. Seriously! The police officer yelled back and continued saying something even as the driver of the vehicle drove off. There were so many volunteers through out the race, I tried my best to remember to thank them as I passed. This police officer though, as I passed him I held up my fist and said, "You get 'em!" and gave him a fist bump as I passed. He laughed and told me, "Hey, I'm here to look after you guys and protect you!" There entered Joy again. That officer made my day (or mile).


I'm not sure if Sadness is the correct emotion to describe how I felt at mile 21...but I was sobbing. When the half marathon runners split from the full marathon runners back at mile 11, the roads that were blocked off for the race course went from two lanes blocked off down to one lane blocked off. The one lane that was blocked off was the right lane, which meant that we couldn't run in the middle of the road where it was flat. The lane we were running in was so slanted, that it was causing my left leg and sciatica to hurt worse than it had at any point in any of my long runs previously. I was in so much pain, I was really done. I couldn't imagine running another 5 miles on that road. I seriously considered quitting.

It was about the time that I was ready to call it quits when I noticed there was a flat sidewalk with no spectators on it that I could run on. Honestly, running on concrete hurts the joints more than asphalt. So I had the inner struggle of run on majorly slanted asphalt, or flat and hard concrete...the concrete won. After sliding over to the concrete, I saw someone up ahead of me jumping up and down, waving their arms at me...it was my sweet friend Angela. I was so relieved to see her! She was the smart one, and decided to run the half instead of the full. She showed up at just the perfect time. I told her I was done, but she wouldn't hear of it. She ran with me for about a quarter of a mile and encouraged me the whole way. We were at about mile 22 at this point, and she said, "You have four miles left! This is just a warm up for you! Just think of running around our neighborhood to the high school and home. You can do this!" And just like that, Sadness started creeping away as Joy (and Determination) crept back in.

As I ran, I had an app tracking the people I had trained with. As they would reach certain mile markers, I would get notifications telling me who had crossed what mile. I remember giving a shout for joy as I got notifications that Chev and Mark had crossed the finish line...and then breaking down into tears. I knew how hard these two men (especially Chev) had trained for this day, and I knew that we had so many people back home in Jacksonville covering us all in prayer, so I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was so relieved that they were able to complete the task they had set out to do. As I mentioned before, we were all battling injuries and ailments. But their injuries and ailments weren't something I was positive they could push through. Sometimes the body just says NO! Thankfully, that wasn't the case on race day.

Here is Chev approaching the finish line. He was the first to finish with a time of 5:15:54. 

Here is Mark approaching the finish line. He finished with a time of 5:23:00.

As I continued on after receiving encouragement from Angela, I was able to get into a nice running rhythm again, staying on sidewalks almost the entire way until the last mile. As my sciatica and blisters became more of a pain (literally), I had to adjust my goals. My dream goal was to finish in 5 hours, although I knew that 5 and a half hours was more realistic. So once my blisters popped and the creeping nerve pain got worse, I decided I would be happy if I finished in under 6 hours...so, as I ran that last mile, and I passed the 26 mile marker, there was a man that said, "You have less than a quarter of a mile, you might as well sprint from here!" I don't know if that man was serious or not, but I glanced down at my Garmin watch and realized that if I did in fact sprint, I just might be able to finish in 6 hours...so I took off. I dug down deep and ignored every screaming nerve in my body. I remember as I was running down an incline into Auto Zone Park, the only thing I could think was, "Lord, don't let me trip and fall!" because I am really good at that with my monstrous feet. Thankfully, I didn't fall, and I crossed that finish line with a finishing time of 5 hours, 59 minutes, and 25 seconds. I met my goal with a whole 35 seconds to spare.

Talk about relief! One thing I didn't accomplish was the finishing photo I was planning in my head. I had planned to smile and give a thumbs up sign as I crossed the finish line, but that didn't happen. And lucky for me, Mark was there cheering me on and taking pictures as I finished. Looking at them even two weeks later, makes me cry.


 I can see pain, determination, disappointment, and relief on my face all at once. I have to tell the competitive side of me that I finished and that's all that matters. I am a marathoner regardless of my finishing time...even though I know with everything in me that if I were healthy, with no sciatica pain and no blisters, I could have done it faster.  So, knowing that, I just might do another one...just not in 2016. Maybe in 2017...

I was so thankful for my mom and her husband, Keith. They came up from Texas and drove our kids up so they could watch us cross the finish line. It meant so much to Mark and myself that our kids got to watch us accomplish something we had trained so long and hard for. It was a great family moment. It was a quick family moment, because we were all ready to shower, collapse, and take a nap when we were done.


Our amazing kids. We didn't think of how training for a marathon would effect them. The training was much more time consuming than we thought it would be. They didn't complain or comment once of how tired we were after our long runs and how we would nap the rest of the days away. 


He still loves me even after I tricked...I mean talked him into running a marathon with me! I hope he will love running again one day...maybe just a nice jog instead of a marathon though...


We finished, and we were all standing! Thankful for sweet friends to train with. I hope we encouraged them as much as they encouraged us! 

I hope you have enjoyed reading about our marathon journey. Although we started this blog specifically for the marathon, I might keep up the blogging...I have learned that a marathon isn't just a foot race. Our life is a marathon that we are running through and time just does not seem to want to slow down. So maybe for 2016 my goal will be to write down more memories and feelings of these passing days as we prepare to send kids off to college in the next couple of years...I can't believe those days are upon us...











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