Frances runs? Frances runs.
Ask my7th grade PE teacher Mr. LeCompte if he would have imagined me running as an adult and he might tell you of the time he found me crouched in the bushes alongside the Schoenbar Trail where I was hiding to avoid the 1 mile test run. It didn’t get better as I got older. In high school, I hid in the stairwell when we had to run laps around the bleachers. In college I wanted to join crew, but didn’t because the team had to run. Put me on a bike and I’ll go for hours, days….Put me on my two feet with the ground below and I would do anything to get out of having to run. I’ve always said if a bear was chasing me, I’d fall down and just get the mauling over with. (But I think that’s what you’re supposed to do anyway.)
It all stemmed from elementary school when the gym teacher would yell at me to run faster because I had long legs therefore I should be able to run fast, right? She was slightly scary and her yelling at me did make me run fast, for about 2 minutes and then I’d hyperventilate and pass out. Running and passing out became very common for me which is why I simply avoided it. In high school I finally went to the doctor and was told I had asthma. Hating the way my asthma inhaler made my heart feel like it was beating out of my chest, I just chose not to run.
But here I am, freshly back from a five mile run in the pouring rain, something I never thought I would do. A few years back I went to the gym and all the cardio equipment was occupied. No rowing urg, no bike, no elliptical, no stair climber—only the dreaded treadmill. I convinced myself I could walk on it, so I did. After a few minutes of walking, something inside said, “Run!”
And run I did.
For the first time in my life, I wasn’t afraid of passing out, I just kept running and before I knew it I ran a mile. It was the first mile I had ever run in my life and it only took 32 years. When I got home I e-mailed my friend Brock, an avid runner, and told him my good news. He replied back with, “We should run a marathon.” And I, feeling the high of running my first mile, stupidly agreed. This was fall 2008. January of 2009 I became pregnant with Aurelia so we agreed to postpone a year. January of 2010 I was diagnosed with cancer, so once again, the goal of a marathon was put on hold. It really appeared I was doing everything possible to get out of running a marathon. January 2011 passed and Brock did a polite, “ahem…” and sent me a reminder that we were supposed to run a marathon. I was also stuck because I told everyone at my August “Franny Kicked Cancer” party that I would be running a marathon within a year. Really, once you announce something like that in public, you’re sort of stuck, and Brock especially wasn’t going to let me forget it.
About three weeks ago I started my training for my marathon in January. It’s in Disney World and I’ll be running with Team in Training to raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. The training has started off slow and so far, I haven’t whined too much. Although, I had a hellacious (hillacious) run last weekend in Ketchikan. I was supposed to run four miles so I took off from my folk’s house on 2nd and ran the 3rd avenue bypass over to Bear Valley towards Tatsuda’s Grocery and then back home along Tongass Ave. Within the first five minutes I thought I was going to die. I forgot the bypass has a steady incline and I was not used to running uphill. I got home and calculated my time and my distance and nearly cried when I realized I ran 15 minute miles. I licked my wounds by telling myself it was uphill a good portion of the way, it was hot, and I had a migraine the night before, excuses, excuses. However, I was relieved when I actually mapped the route into Google Maps and discovered I’d gone five miles- not four. I, Frances, the girl who hid in the bushes had just run 5 miles.
Throughout my cancer, I joked that going through chemo and radiation was going to be easier than running the marathon. Similar to my treatment, there will be aches, there will be pains, and perhaps a bit of tears, delirium and the occasional vomiting, but I know in the end, that I’ll be happy I made it through both. And I am already feeling that sense of pride of getting through something tough. I feel it every time I run one more mile, because to me, each additional mile is another mile further than I’ve ever gone before. A mile I’m lucky to be running at all.
On an end note, if you want to donate to my cause and the real reason I’m running this marathon, visit my Team in Training Leukemia and Lymphoma Society fundraising website at: My Fundraising Page
