This one is a bit more personal. Actually, it could be called “Why I Started Running And Still Continue To Run” or simply “Why I Run.” Because these next two influences are so closely related, I’ll address them together. So here goes…

My Brother

My brother, Mark, and I are roughly 2 1/2 years apart – with me being the oldest. We grew up with similar interests: athletics and music. However, Mark was more of an athlete and I was more of a musician. Strangely enough, these paths have recently converged as Mark has put a lot of effort into learning the drums and I have taken up running.

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Mark has always been more of an endurance athlete than me. He has competed in a number of races of every distance, up to and including the marathon. Also, he has done several cycling races and triathlons.

Saturday, November 8, 2014 is a day I will never forget. We were getting ready to celebrate our dad’s birthday, which was November 9. That afternoon, while at the store with one of our daughters, mom called to tell me that Mark was missing. He had gone for a bike ride, but had not returned home. Nobody had seen or heard from him for hours, and he wasn’t answering his phone.

This was one of the longest days of my life. Several hours passed and he was still missing. Not knowing was the worst part. Maybe he was seriously injured. Maybe maybe he was gone. We just didn’t know. So we prayed and waited. Late that night, dad called to inform me that Mark had been found…thankfully alive. He had a terrible cycling accident that knocked him out for about 3 days. Mark sustained a severe concussion, lost several teeth, and received a host of other injuries.

It was a hard road for Mark (no pun intended). He had to put in a lot of hard work to regain his strength, stamina, balance, mobility, and even his confidence. In the face of great adversity, Mark persevered. Eventually, he was able to start racing again.

My Dad

One of the first things Mark remembers after waking up in the hospital was dad telling him that he loved him and was proud of him. Dad was always one of our biggest supporters. He and mom were always such an encouragement to us. Anytime Mark raced, if it was humanly possible, they would be there.

This is a much longer story than I’m making it, but dad was diagnosed with a terminal illness in December of 2015. Dad’s prognosis was 2-5 years. The first time I saw dad after his diagnoses, he quoted Job 1:21 and said “the Lord gives, and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

Dad fought hard, but ultimately was at peace knowing his time had come. On January of 2017, dad finished the race.

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Ironman

In April of 2018, Mark was registered for the Ironman triathlon in the Woodlands, TX. With dad not being there, mom, one of my daughters, and I came to cheer Mark on. Needless to say, this was a very emotional experience.

The atmosphere was incredible. Everyone was extremely encouraging. Even the participants seems to have the attitude that they were all in it together. One racer would pass another and say something like “great job…keep it up”. The whole experience was very inspiring and uplifting, even as a spectator.

I guess I expected most of the participants to look like Olympic athletes. Muscular and ripped…like something from Greek mythology. While there were some of these, most looked like regular people that I would see everyday. Yet they had worked hard and made numerous sacrifices to accomplish a goal. That day, a seed was planted in my mind. What could I do if I really worked hard and gave it my best? This question continued to plague me.

At last, it was time. With each person who crossed the finish line, the crowd cheered loudly. Families and friends gathered around to welcome and congratulate those who finished. It was amazing.

In the midst of the celebration, I couldn’t help but think of Hebrews 12:1-2:
“Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. “

At the same time, I kept thinking about dad’s race and wondering what the celebration must have been like when he crossed the finish line. I’m not ashamed to say that I completely lost it.

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Moving Forward

During a GriefShare class, I heard a great statement. When you lose somebody you love, you can’t just move on with your life. But you can move forward by treasuring the memories you shared, honoring the person’s life, grieving as needed, while still living your life…as they would want you to do. At this point in time, I still felt like I was stuck in my grief.

When I picked up running, I found that it was a great outlet. It provided a break from the busyness and stress of life. It gave me the space to to pray, process, decompress, and to work through much of my grief. Today, I’m doing much better. I still miss dad, and I’m sure I always will. But each day, God gives me the strength to move forward, one step at a time. Now, a year later, I’m training for my first marathon. This one’s for you, dad…