The Start

I don’t know if there is ever more energy anywhere at an insane hour of the morning, than there is at a marathon starting line. I left my hotel at 5:30 a.m. When I got into the elevator, charged up people in running shoes were already headed to the lobby where people were drinking coffee, chatting, and generally looking like it was Sunday after church, not Sunday at 5:30 before we were all going to run a long way.

As we ambled through the darkened streets of downtown, towards the starting line, the crowds and energy only increased. It was as if people were coming out of every building, wearing race numbers, to join the crowds on the street. It was all kinds of people. Short, tall, fat, thin, old, young, people who looked like runners (not me) and people who didn’t. 22 thousand people eventually found their way to 4th and Robinson, right outside the gates of the lighted memorial. 22 thousand participants and countless thousands of spectators. All ready to go by 6 in the morning.

The four of us who came together met left my dad to make our way to the starting corral. Seeing the line of people packed shoulder to shoulder and sidewalk to sidewalk for multiple city blocks brought tears to my eyes. There I was, one anonymous person in an enormous event easily lost in the sea of tech gear, race numbers and running shoes. A celebration that brings thousands of people out of their beds, out of their states (all 50 of them) and out of their comfort zones to run, to volunteer, and to watch on one day, together. I can’t help but think how amazing it is that 22 thousand people, for their own reasons, decided to run in Oklahoma City that day. I knew three of them. Yet I was connected, simply by being there, to everyone. We were all running the same course, on the same day. We were all gathered here, in the space of a few city blocks to see the sun rise while we ran. No matter how fast, we were all running the same route. We were following in the footsteps not only of those who ran before us, but of each other. It’s exciting and it’s overwhelming. No wonder as the 22 K runners plus countless spectators (a number totaling beyond 30k I am sure) silenced themselves for one hundred and sixty-eight seconds (a second for every victim) I couldn’t help but let a few tears fall down my face. This was the beginning of a journey we would all share, but we stood in silence to remember.

The starting horn blew soon after and the sea of people in front of me inched forward. My sister and I slowly made our way to the start line (taking nearly 15 minutes in an already long event!) I heard the beeps of my sister and my timing chips as we crossed the official race start. We were on our way.

With each step through the first few miles I was a bit overwhelmed by what I had undertaken. This was the beginning. It was the beginning of a long way to go and it was exciting. It was exciting to see the people gathered here. To be, for just a few minutes, running with everyone else who was running this race. It was the first few miles that I took it all in. I was running a marathon. I got there. I made it, in tact, to the starting line.

The beginning of the race was the most scenic. It brought us through Bricktown (right past our hotel again!) and past the capital building. We turned into pretty neighborhoods and wove up and down hills. We saw runners and walkers alike.

The most memorable sight in the first few miles was the two firefighters. They were in full gear. Helmets, oxygen tanks, coats, boots, everything. I would find out later they were walking the half. Images of fire fighters on ladders, pulling people out of the debris flashed before me. Whether these two were rescue workers on this day 15 years ago or not, their presence that day was a tribute to the strength of the city and the lives saved that day.

This was the beginning of the race. Before the elite runners would separate themselves from the pack, and before half marathons and 5k runners turned off to continue their own courses. It was my favorite part. Not just because the energy and spirits were high, but because we were all together running and walking, doing our best to follow the same path to the finish line.

It was here, not at the end, that I absorbed the energy. That I took in all of the atmosphere and excitement. Before the marathon is about perseverance, it’s about excitement and a sense of wonder and adventure. It’s that energy that is the most fun and it’s that energy that leads to the strength to finish. The wonder and excitement is what overrules the doubt and fear to lure people into training in the first place. In the beginning I couldn’t help but think “I only hope I am willing to keep following those wonderings right through doubt and fear after this, because where they lead you is worth the risk.” I also knew in that beginning, that it was in the first few miles more than anywhere that I had to trust I would be able to handle whatever difficulty and struggle came my way.