Thanks, Stranger

I ran a half marathon on Saturday. I am not going to lie. It was hard. I ran the same one last year so I knew what I was getting into – lots of rolling hills and a gravel road. I really didn’t want to do the same one again but with my work weekend schedule, it was the only one I could find that fit. I like to do longer runs every now and again to push me out of the ruts I seem to find myself in – running and otherwise. So, Helvetia it was and I put my money down early so I couldn’t back out. 

I swore I was going to start out slower this year. I am a terrible pacer. I get excited and start out way too fast and pay for it later. That’s what happened last year. This year I was determined to ignore the 8:30 pacer sign and hang back with the 9 minute mile+ pacers. Yeah. That worked for about ¼ mile. I think I am more competitive than I care to admit.

Anyhow, around mile 5, I hurt. I am running up a hill that seems to have no end. Eight more miles seems impossible. Even Beyonce isn’t helping. All of a sudden this woman who has been next to me for about a mile or two looks over at me and says “high five” – and we do. I realize we are at the top of the hill and she wants to celebrate. It was amazing how the encouragement and solidarity of a stranger in that one instance was enough to change my run around. I had to keep running. The stranger and I ran the next couple of miles together although we never exchanged another word. I felt like I needed to keep going for both of us. I lost her at one of the water stations. I imagine she had no idea how much I needed that high five at the top of the hill.

Around mile 11 there lies a dusty gravel road. It goes on for awhile and it is hard to feel inspired. There are still two miles ahead. That doesn’t sound like a lot at the moment but after 11 miles, two miles can be excruciatingly long. My stranger wasn’t with me anymore and I had heard all the songs on my shuffle at least once. Then I started thinking of a patient I took care of this week . . .the patient who terrified me because he passed out in the bathroom when I was helping him get up to pee. This patient was much younger than me and, about a month prior to our meeting, he had a stroke – a big old bleed in his head and the doctors don’t really know why yet. He had been in the ICU for a long time before transferring to our floor. They had removed part of his skull to decrease the pressure and the swelling. Sorry if that is too graphic but you get the idea of why it was so scary when he fainted. He had to wear a helmet most of the time to protect his head. Another coworker and I were walking him to the bathroom. While we were standing there with him he said to me “I think I am going to faint.”  And then, for a moment, he did. Fortunately my coworker is much stronger than I am and we were able to keep him upright and prevent him from falling. It took four of us to get him back to bed. 

The experience horrified me. I was shaky for the rest of the night. I went over and over what I could have done differently and how thankful I was that he didn’t fall. By morning he seemed to be back to himself but I still worry about him. He has a long road ahead of him. It exhausts him to walk, to pee, to move. His thoughts can be disjointed when he is tired. He will need the bone flap put back in eventually. He has a long way to go but he has amazing family support and a pretty good outlook. As I thought about him at mile 11, I realized that 2 miles wasn’t really that far. How blessed am I to be able run…to be able to put one foot in front of the other with little regard. I made it to the end of those 13 miles with the help of two people I barely knew and will most likely never see again. Thanks, stranger.