So, Brazil is crazy. Well, the nature is crazy. The food is
kinda meh, the wine was terrible, the people are very lovely and helpful, the
coffee was excellent, but the nature is kick-you-in-the-face unbelievable. Three
weeks ago, I went to Rio, the Amazon forest, the island Fernando de Noronha,
and a small seaside town three hours north of Rio. The purpose of this trip was
to run my 6th marathon on my 5th continent because, that
is.... I guess... what I said I would do. Ambition is a dangerous drug, people.
Dangerous and expensive. But I digress. I left the race until the end of the
trip, only because my schedule dictated that I needed to be back in Rome on
November 10 and the only race I could find in the 2 week window prior was
in this tiny little town on the coast called Buzios. Whatever, it’s just 26 miles. I don’t
have to win a prize, just finish and not die afterwards. I can do that. Probably.
While I have many stories about Brazil, and I will be sure
to write them with some kind of consistency, the story I want to tell you today
is about the race itself. But first, let me give you some lead-up. Prior to
arriving in Buzios, I had canoed down the Amazon, hiked through the
jungle, held a baby Cayman in my hands, scuba-dived with sea turtles, sharks,
and barracudas, and been on at least 7 different planes, 6 different boats, and
many taxis, buses, and scooters. I thought I had already endured the epic journey of
Brazil when I laced up my Nikes to run the race, but oh no, twas not so.
Because, you see, I don’t really research my races very well. I pick a spot on a
map and think, in the words of Tina Fey, “I want to go to there”. That’s my rhyme
and reason for picking marathons. Had I done any real research on the course,
which would have necessitated me translating a lot of Portuguese, I might have
learned that Buzios has some of the most crazy trails you could ever run. Great idea, right?
The race starts out on cobblestoned roads. As resident in
the Eternal City, this zero-percent scarred me because most of Rome’s streets
are more excavation site than actual road-way at this point. But, after about 3
kilometers, the race deviates into the woods and that is when shit got real. We
are talking steep, muddy, rocky inclines so narrow and precarious that only one
person at a time can climb up them, followed by the slippery slopes down that
require you to push branch after endless brambly branch out of your purview. If
there are no trees, you’re probably running over the sea cliffs. I don’t know
why the race organizers left the rocky outcroppings till the end of the race. I
was so tired and delirious, after 7 and a half hours of running, I am
amazed I did not fall and smash my face into the jagged edges, leaving me to then get
eaten by the crabs.
And when you’re not running in the woods, you are running on
sand. All the sand ever created. You have to run through it, mostly at high tide, next to sea
wall, which means that part of the race you will need to wade through the water
at knee-high level for about, oh, 5 kilometers. I remember, as I walked
down the beach (running in sand is like taking two steps forward and one step
back. It’s insufferable and I admit that I walked over most of the sand in
protest) looking at all the foot prints in front of me. After a while, the
race started to really spread out and there would be only one or two foot prints at a time
that I could see, the other shoe prints having been erased by advancing waves.
I could not help, looking at those shoe prints, but think of that poem Footprints
in the Sand. Do you know it? It’s the one where some guy is dreaming about
walking on a beach and all the moments of his life are represented by pairs of
footprints in the sand. The guy sees that during difficult periods, there was
only one set of prints, meaning that he was all alone during his darkest hours.
So he says to Jesus, “Where were you when I needed you most? You left me to go
it alone when I was really suffereing,” and Jesus says, “The times when you
have seen only one set of footprints is when I carried you”.
You may be thinking, “What an uplifting story. That must
have given you such comfort”. Initially, it only irritated me. First of all, I
was not at my darkest hour on the beach, I just wanted to STOP MOVING but being
the dutiful Protestant Dutch descendant I am, I did not. But I did think, “No
one carries you! Jesus doesn’t come down and pick you up. It’s a metaphor. What
good is a metaphor for me now?! This race is never going to end. Why am I so
stupid? Why did make this life choice?!” etc., etc. But then I remembered something
I have said, time and time again, to people who tell me, “I could never run a
marathon”. My reply is always “It’s all in your head. If you think you can’t do
it, you won’t”. I believe this to be true for most things. I’m not saying that if you believe you
will win American Idol you absolutely will if you just try hard enough and really believe. What I mean is, if you set a goal that mostly does not depend on
other people’s opinion of you, such as running a marathon, and if you commit long enough and keep going at it, and just do it, you will do it. Winning and finishing something are not
the same. Winners are often chosen by circumstances beyond their control (I’m
looking at you Marisa Tomei). But doing something, doing THE THING and
finishing THE THING, even just enduring THE THING until the end, is a choice
that mostly just relies on your mental determination.
So, there I am in the sand, thinking about footprints, and I
realize that, yeah, in your darkest moments, when you mentally cannot keep yourself
going, those are the moments God takes the wheel. He gives you a break and lets you, even just
for a second, relax. I don’t believe that God is some Santa-Wish-Granting-Genie
that, if you believe hard enough, will give you everything you could ever want.
Because that implies, if you don’t want it enough or don’t pray enough or don’t
do something enough, you won’t get it, meaning you aren’t good enough to deserve
what you want or need. No, that’s ridiculous and toxic and unhelpful in all ways. But I do
think that the act of prayer is choosing to let go of the doing THE THING and
refocus your energy. God will hold onto THE THING for you so that you can get
your bearings. Instead, THE THING just becomes looking to God for peace.
Looking to God for an Eye in the Storm. The storm is not over, but you get a
reprieve. That is what prayer is, to me, and that is what those footprints
mean: a mental pause from running in the sand. Because sand is the worst to run
in, I cannot even tell you.
You know where this is going: Luke. Luke is not doing so
hot. AML leukemia is dark and scary and aggressive and my family is walking
through a lot of sand. Sometimes it looks like the sand might end, but then, oh
no, sand for days. But you have to keep going. You can’t stop and stay where
you are because then you will just be stuck with no possibility of getting free. The only way things change is
going forward, and forward is unknown. You hope forward leads to the finish
line that will end your misery, but life is not actually a pre-planned race during
which you know the start and end point. Prayer does not change THE THING, but it
changes how you see it and how you deal with it. Prayer and hope and faith and
trust change you, not THE THING.
SO THE THING IS LUKEMIA and many doctors around the world are
struggling to change it. In the meantime, I can only pray that God will change
me. And it sounds so simple and almost useless, but let me tell you, when you
are running through what seems like the Sahara, even a second to focus on the grace that is
peace and mercy and love will restore you soul. It won’t change THE THING but a
changed mind can help you continue to keep moving.
Which brings me to my final point: FUNDRAISING! Did you know
that Thanksgiving is coming? Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanza, New Years???? What
better gift this holiday season than to donate a few dollars to children’s
cancer research? It’s so easy, just go HERE, to my FirstGiving Team Baby Luke fundraising page, and you can donate as much as you want to Alex’s Lemonade’s Stand, a wonderful
non-profit started by a little girl with cancer whose fundraising dreams lead
to over $100 million dollars in donations going towards cancer research (Read all about it HERE).
So, yeah. I ran a marathon in Brazil so that I could convince
you to give some money to help suffering children. Are you going to say no to
that?! ARE YOU?! Please don’t. I have a goal to raise $10,000 but my real hope
is just that I inspire some people to be generous and help those in need. It
doesn’t have to be a life changing action on your part, but your donation, in
tandem with the millions of others, will change the lives of those children
struggling, those families struggling. Let’s all help each other get out of the sand.
Again, donations can be made here: http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/runcarlarunproject/TeamBabyLuke-2
And you can follow me on Instagram @runcarlarunproject.
