It was a 5 kilometre community run for a cancer charity. I had just started distance running (at age 55) and was testing my speed intervals in preparation for an upcoming longer run. Approaching the last kilometre, I overtook a young man who was slightly swaying from side to side at a slow pace. I saw that he had some type of foot deformity. Spontaneous admiration overwhelmed me. Someone so ill-suited for distance running was putting himself ‘out there’ for charity. Then, coming alongside him, my respect rose to another dimension as I heard him saying to himself, over and over again, “Almost there . . . Almost there.”
Here I was, just finishing a distance that had become rather blasé to me as my sights were already on a half-marathon. And here he was, doing something that he may never do again. Likely doing it now only because of someone special to him that was in battle with cancer. And it didn’t matter to him how awkward he looked. Nor how physically difficult this run would be for him. There was no way that he was going to do anything but finish the distance.
Breathe in, “Almost there.” Breathe out, “Almost there.”
I slowed down, fit in alongside, and tracked with him for the remaining distance to the finish line. I could have overtaken and ‘blown by’ him and crossed the line at my own pace by myself. And the event would have fallen into the backroom of my running memory as I sought new hills to climb. But I paused to settle in beside him. To fully embrace the gift of a special moment in life. He never looked at me. His gaze was fixed on the path before him. And so, side by side, we breathed in, “Almost there,” and breathed out, “Almost there.”
My sense of awe is still with me today, more than 20 years later. I see that young man in front of me, then beside me, and finally, crossing the finish line before me. He was finally ‘there.’ We never spoke. I didn’t ask his name. I had the privilege of being in the presence of a true champion.
He probably didn’t realize how his “Almost there!” had tapped into the running community’s philosophy of having a mantra to get you through tough times. When your body and brain want to shrivel up and assume a fetal position on the ground, you utter, mutter, whisper, cry out a brief but pungent phrase that jumpstarts you to keep going and not quit. His feet, legs, and entire being had established a limping rhythm of endurance to accompany the in and out of his breath and whispered “almost there.”
I am thankful for the example that young man was to me – to rise above physical and other limitations, to carry on in the face of adversity, to find motivational keys for an extra boost when needed most, and to continue to cross finish lines of desired goals not only in running but also in life.