All along this experience had not only been a physical test, but a spiritual one for me as well. My training was done mostly outdoors, even on many cold winter days. Only when the weather was below freezing, snowing or pouring buckets of rain did I resort to using my mother’s treadmill. I jogged at my local beach on Long Island Sound which is 3 miles around from gate to gate. The waves crashing, seagulls chiming, even low-tide stinking, all made my time with myself and nature ethereal. I would often loose myself in thought and prayer for hours on end, gaining much needed confidence, endurance and spiritual power.
And then God said, “That’s what you think”! The BIG TEST came. Around mile 18 I had a wake-up call from my small toe on my right foot - “BIG BLISTER CAUSING EXTREME PAIN – TOENAIL FALLING OFF!” Holy cow, I thought I was done. I stopped and removed my very expensive running shoes that I had been training in for the past few months, but I kept on jogging. I had shed an inexpensive shirt many miles back because of heat, as many people along the route do, but there was no way I was going to leave my $150.00 shoes on the streets of Rome! Luckily I jog wearing 3 pair of socks for cushioning so at first carrying my shoes was no real problem. But after a few miles my socks started to tear and shred, as at least 50% of the race is run on cobblestones. I kept asking several bystanders I passed along the route if they could donate any extra socks, but all said no (or didn’t speak English!). At one point I found a pair of gloves a runner had discarded, bent over and stuck them on the ends of my feet. At least they covered the balls of my feet where the biggest holes had occurred. But the “fingers” of the gloves of course flopped out in front of my toes as I padded along – causing one bystander to turn to his wife and exclaim, “What the HELL is that?!”. I just waved and smiled and didn’t care, mostly because I was numb!
At another point coming up to the last 10K or so, two police people were standing along the sidelines, a man and a woman. The female officer saw my predicament, lifted up the red police tape strung along to mark the route, saying, “Qui, qui”. I knew that meant “here” in Italian, and I remember looking at her in horror. “No way, that’s cheating!”, I yelled and kept on going. (Later I realized I had resisted the devil’s temptation and felt eerie...)
At mile 20 I stopped in at a medical tent just to see if there was any way I could get my toe wrapped enough to get my shoes back on. The Italian doctor was cute, but he spoke very little English. He put a bandage around my toe, but when I tried to put my shoes on, the pain was too excruciating. Determined, off I jogged, again with shoes in hand. I figured only 6 more miles, how hard could that be...
Plugging along I came upon two women who were running for the Canadian Diabetes Society. One dropped behind to use the bathroom, and Lori and I wound up being companions through to the end of the race. I know she was an angel sent from heaven! Just when we both needed the most encouragement, there we were for each other providing the support, pleasant conversation and inspiration we will remember forever. As I was so focused on my feet, she was on her sugar levels. She was a four-shot-a-day insulin taker, and mother of 2 children from Saskatchewan. Her husband was waiting for her at the finish line, and pre-typed emails were waiting on her laptop to be shot off to her two kids in Canada, ready to proclaim victory. Now that’s confidence! And we, two complete strangers, shared this amazing experience of finishing the race of a lifetime, at that very important moment, just as elated for each other as for ourselves!
Behold, the finish line was just as I imagined! Crossing through the tape, an official rushing up, placing the gold medal around your neck, crowd cheering and hearty congratulations! I never imagined I would be in this spot at this instant and it was delicious! Covered in my metallic warming blanket, I hobbled off looking around for Joan. Someone handed me a bag of refreshments and the cool water tasted divine. I shuffled down the street looking for the luggage holding area, which was no where to be seen. All I wanted were the slippers I had brought from my hotel to wear home! Then there she was – Joan manning our luggage - and great big screams and hugs ensued! An accomplishment of a lifetime, two friends firmly bonded forever. As we limped off to find a taxi, Joan asked, "So, do you want to walk the El Camino with me next year?"
by Joanie
