The Unlikely Story Of Becoming A Marathoner

 I joke that “I have spent a lot of my life in a parking lot”.  I am almost always very early to everything. Late October 1983, that was when my parents expected me. But if you have met me, you know beyond a shadow of a doubt I AM A LEO. So on August 17th, I was born after a terrifying and long labor for my Mom. Feet first, face up, nearly taking my mom’s life in the process (don’t worry she is alive and healthy). I decided very very early on I liked to be early!  Doctors told my family I would not live long, and when I seemed to be doing ok, they told them a myriad of problems that would ensue.  My lungs were underdeveloped. My family would spend quite a bit of time in the hospital with my lung issues during the early years of my life. Doctors told my parents I would always be behind other children my age.

I was a lazy kid, always finding ways to be carried, and whining over my “tired legs”. When my family would go on bike rides, I would lock myself in the house hoping I would not have to join. So when I told my mom in 7th grade I wanted to run track, she was a little taken back.  But she says I was always a fighter.  I’m not sure that was meant as a good thing at the time. 

I fell in love with running and by High School I was a good runner for my conference and region, but far from a great athlete. I ran 2:16 for the 800m, 5:20 for the 1600m, 11:28 for the 3200m and 20:01 for 5k XC in High School.  Good enough for a college scholarship, but far from having many of the accolades as the incredible women on my College team at the University of Akron had achieved.  I worked hard in college, always believing I could be a better athlete than I was.  I have been called immature once or twice in my life, so I suppose it should be no surprise it took me so long to grow as an athlete as well. My college coach found frustration in my questioning of workouts and fluctuating weight. I pushed harder trying to impress him, and become the athlete I knew I could be. But like most stories of young children trying to hold on to the puppy as tight as possible, I got bit and never really found my groove until I let go a little.  I started to have fun, and not take running quite so seriously.  Yes, this means I started going to some parties, and having some fun. 100% yes that is what it means. Running became more enjoyable.  My body found a good weight for me, and I started to see glimmers of who I thought I could be. I finally broke 5 minutes in the mile, and every race I ran was faster than the last. Turns out a happy athlete is a fast athlete. I walked away from college underdeveloped and with more passion for running than I ever had. 

Following college,  I trained hard for my first marathon but missed my chance when 3 weeks out I had issues with my achilles and had to postpone the race.  My coach was furious I had pushed too hard and lost the opportunity to race the Columbus Marathon. I had done a 5k workout and pushed a lot harder than I was suppose to in order to run a PR in practice. So in the most immature way possible I said no problem, I will coach myself. And I did. I got healthy, just to get hurt again, and went back and forth between being able to run and using the elliptical to get healthy enough to get through my next workout.  I reached out to the Austin Marathon in a last ditch effort to run a marathon in the Olympic Trials qualifying window for 2008.  The race director, John Conley, explained that that course had changed from years past and was not a downhill course but instead a hilly course and not a great one to run fast on.  I said I didn’t care, all I needed was the chance. He added me to the invited athlete list, I vowed to myself I would not make him regret it. I told everyone who would listen, my goals, and to my surprise there was some push back.  A co-worker of mine informed me that I did not know what I was doing and my plan to try and run under the Olympic Trials standard of 2:46 was arrogant and probably unrealistic. She suggested that I instead go in with the goal of completing the distance. Thank you for the fuel on my fire.  So I plugged away at 100+ mile weeks supplementing when needed with long hours on the elliptical. 

Friday February 15th 2008, at 24 years old my parents and I went to Austin for my first marathon. My bags didn't make it, my Mom was frustrated for me, but I had all I needed in my carry on for the race. A great thing I learned in college, always have your race gear with you. Over the next 30ish hours I nervously stretched, did weird standing drills as if they would somehow make my legs remember to do what I needed them to do. I did a shakeout run the day prior to the race, and saw only one person…who I happened to know!  Bridgit, a runner from Bowling Green who was living in Austin.  She said she would come cheer the next morning. That night I enjoyed dinner and nervously went back to the hotel with my Mom and Step Dad (Sam). I got at text I will never forget, and all my nerves disappeared. It was from my boss and friend, Almond,  it simply read “God Speed”.  Those words still make me tear up to this day. He never doubted me, and in that moment I decided to not doubt myself either.  I didn't sleep well. Mom asked if I was "sure I wanted to do this" as I went to leave for the warm up area. I snapped back at her that she wasn’t helping. 

I don’t remember warming up. But I remember pushing my way to the front of the start line and realizing that maybe I didn’t belong there, next to Olympian Brian Sell, then I recall thinking, “who cares? It's one less step to the finish line if I start here, and I came to run as fast as I could, why not give myself that step”. The gun went off and I was amazed to see so many woman flying past me, “wow, they are going to run so fast” was all I could think. I settled in around 8-10th place. Around 2.5 miles in I asked the woman next to me if we had passed the mile yet.  She looked at me like I was crazy. Then I saw the 3 mile marker.  I was running along side a man who looked at my bib and said “oh fuck, your running the full!”  I had no idea what he meant. All I knew was 5:45 was too fast, so I chilled out.   I saw Sam around mile 5 and threw him a smile. At 10k I missed my water bottle and panicked for a second, then calmed down and grabbed a cup at the next water station. At mile 10 I wondered how so many people knew my name, and thought maybe the race had a handout that had our names and photos in them or something. I burst out laughing a mile or so later when I looked down and realized my name was on my bib! At mile 11 the ½ marathon went straight and we took a left turn. Again I laughed.  The women who had gone out so fast were running the half!  I didn't know there was a half!  Now I wondered what place I could be in! At mile 18 I saw Grandpa, just over my left shoulder, cheering as I passed him. 2-3 miles later I realized he was in Ohio.  But I knew I had heard him, and even saw him, standing there, loud and clear he said   “It’s your day Beck!” He was somehow there, and I can not be convinced otherwise. 

At mile 22 my feet really hurt, I was doing all I could to stay on the paint lines because they hurt less on them. I even asked two men running together to let me through on the paint. I was thankful when they did. At mile 23 I heard Bridgit screaming as she ran down a side street toward the race, telling me the woman in front of me was walking and I could catch her.

  

Back at the finish line Mom and Sam eagerly awaited my finish.  As the first woman ran past the Capital building and won, the announcer stated the second place woman would be rounding the corner soon with minutes over the 3rd place woman. Mom and Sam felt sadness. They knew I would miss my goal since I was not in second place, and the clock was ticking relentlessly as it always does. They were proud of me for trying, but knew I would be upset. Mom looked on toward the turn as they announced second place would be arriving.  She burst into tears when she saw I moved into second place, her daughter, who wasn't suppose to live, let alone thrive as an athlete, was running down Congress St.,  finishing second,  in her first MARATHON, nearly three minutes under the Olympic Trials Qualifying Standard. As I Rockettered my ass across that finish line my Mom and Sam cried tears of joy for me. I had never in all my life felt so much joy to have arrived where I was going early. That day I had become a Marathoner, as unlikely as the story was, I couldn't be more happy it happened.

Rockettering 

Just The Beginning Of My Running Story