Wrangler Dani

On Sunday, Adam and a couple of his buddies ran a self-designed marathon around San Clemente. Adam had run through the trails many times and decided that rather than pay $100+ for the privilege of punishing his body, he would create his own. So, at a little after six on a foggy Sunday morning, the boys were off, running on the trail below our house and preparing themselves for 26 more miles.

It was probably the hottest day we’ve had all summer, to be honest. By the time I met the guys with a pickup full of fruit, water, fancy engineered running foods at the first pit stop 90 minutes later, they were already tired. At each subsequent aid station I kept plying them with food and water, smiles and encouragement, and after a minute or two of rest by my dinged-up truck bed, they pushed on.

At the bluffs above the ocean, at the 23-mile mark, another friend met us to run with them for the last three miles. The sun was high in the sky, beating down on us. I was passing out fresh socks and waters and smiles but all they wanted was to finish. They just wanted to run into the ocean (the “finish line”) and celebrate.

After a grueling 26.2 miles, all of the runners guzzled high-tech exercise drinks, peeled off sweaty shoes and jumped exuberantly in the ocean. The “closer” our friend who’d run the last three with them, was warmly embraced into the festivities and his wife and I laughed at their antics from the beach.

We walked up to the house and all the runners got showers (Q: what happens when four sweaty marathoners use your bathroom? A: you don’t want to know) and we grilled several pounds of seasoned tri-tip and corn on the cob and munched on watermelon. There was a lot of laughter and a feeling of celebration. Several non-running friends came by to help us eat and congratulate the marathoners, we were all caught in the joy of completing such a feat.

I’m not a runner. I don’t think I ever will be. But I was inspired by the perseverance and vision of the guys who are. Everyone who participated in our little homemade event was embraced into a great story and everyone, from the team mom (me) to the cheerleaders and celebratory partiers to the runners themselves, were part of a team, supporting their cause. I wasn’t just doling out Gatorade and orange slices, I was giving hope and encouragement.

Everybody wants to be a part of the adventure. It sounds silly, after all, it’s not as though our marathon cured cancer, and we didn’t “do it for the kids”. But it was an accomplishment that one person had dreamed of doing, and through his careful planning, motivating enthusiasm and long endurance, became a cause, an event and a celebration for everyone involved.

I’m biased, but I’m inspired by my husband’s determination and vision and his willingness to let others join his cause. What are the other adventures that only a vision or an invitation away? When adventure or opportunity calls, I tend to strike out on my own, trying to prove once and for all that “I got this” – but I have a feeling that I lose something significant every time I start a lonely trek.