Melissa Jaynes who competed in the Indianapolis Monumental Marathon recently, shares the following story of why we all need support from our friends and family. Click here to view a PDF of a story that ran in The Herald Bulletin on November 7. If you would like to share a story about your running experiences send it over to newsletter@wickedrunningclub.com.
By Melissa Jaynes
Running always ends up teaching me something, even if I never intended to learn. In the very early days, my attempts at running quickly educated me on my lack of fitness; I missed the train when I couldn’t run a whopping quarter mile soon after moving to Salem. As I got a little better, running also taught me that pushing my body also helped push my mind in working through mental and emotional conundrums. When I started running road races I learned the importance of pacing, training, the value hidden in hills, and even the need to rest. Completing my first marathon taught me the invaluable lesson of not putting limits on my own capabilities.
As I prepared for my second marathon, running continued to act as my teacher. However, the most valuable lesson from this marathon was one we often must re-learn—the importance of support. I specifically signed up for this marathon in Indianapolis so that my family could see me run (did I mention Indiana is flat?). As planned, I expectantly learned lessons from a running clinic and multiple shorter races throughout my 20 week training schedule. I even learned lessons I didn’t anticipate such as how to “recover” from a race that just didn’t go as planned. But, my most important lesson was a reminder of the value of friendship and support. I loved the clinic because it challenged me physically, but mostly because I ran alongside up to 60 fellow runners who cheered for each other and noticed when someone was absent. I also loved running my long training runs with the support of a coach, and his beloved cooler of water and Gatorade, and fellow runners. We ran in heat and a lot of rain. Alone, such runs are often skipped or miserable, but alongside friends, I found myself laughing and sometimes even singing during torrential downpours and booming thunder. While the simple presence of the person next to you is support, so is the laughter and song that you remember in many following runs.
I was powerfully reminded of support when about a month before the marathon, one of my closest friends from Indiana lost her father, Tim, to a Diabetes related illness. I was unable to fly attend the funeral, and instead found myself longing for a way to show support from 1,000 miles away. I suddenly found myself researching the American Diabetes Association and e-mailing family and friends asking for donations in Tim’s honor as I ran the race in his memory. His death also forced me to look back at my life and reminded me that all of my accomplishments in life were achieved with the support of my family and mentor’s like Tim. Once again this proved true throughout the marathon. While during the race, unlike my training runs, I did not have a partner directly next to me, I was surrounded and motivated by support. I was moved by the support of my friends in the Running Club and their well wishes, tips, and good luck trinkets (who knew how important chapstick and a lucky hair tie could be). I was also moved by the support of my family and their cheers along the course. There is just nothing like high-fiving your Dad, seeing your Mom and Sister holding bright yellow signs proudly, hearing your 80-year-old Grandfather yell “pick up the pace,” having professional style action photos from your uncle, or having your husband run the last mile with you in jeans after seeing the pain in my face. As a result, I did not cross the finish line alone, but with Tim on my mind, my friends in my heart, my family by my side, and a reminder of one of the most valuable lessons in life.
