The Tail of the Dog
By Ellie Hodder
Founder/Coach of Women Walk the Marathon®
The tail of the dog is a term many race officials apply to the
group of participants that are at the end of a race. In this case, though,
the tail doesn't wag the dog. More likely the dog
is pretty much done for the day by the time the tail gets there!
So what about the participants who are at the back of the pack? What drives
them? What moves them to continue knowing most people will be home, showered
and fed by the time they finish?
After 16 years of being at the finish until the end, I think I have a fair
amount of expertise on that subject. They are there because quitting is not
an option!
The first time I was introduced to this notion, I was an undergraduate music
student. One of my friends had been selected to play piano in an honors concert.
The week before the event she came down with a horrific case of tennis elbow
from practicing so much. You need to know that, for a budding concert pianist,
tennis elbow is like small airway shutdown for an asthmatic-painful and terrifying!
For a week, she bathed her arm in ice and practiced by visualizing herself
performing her piece for the hours she could no longer put in at the keyboard.
The day came and she walked out on the stage, sat at the piano and . . . sat
at the piano and. . . and nothing came. A couple times she put her hands on
the keys and played a few bars, but that was all that came to her. After a
few agonizing minutes, she stood up and walked off stage.
From the corner of my eye, I saw her teacher head for the stage door, but
before she got there, my friend strode across the stage back to the piano,
sat down and stunned a shocked house with a brilliant, flawless performance,
start to finish.
Quitting is not an option!
Over these past years, I've come to know that those at the back of the pack
are people of strong character and remarkable courage. They are out there
to affirm life to themselves and to seize the day in a personal way.
In 2004, Cindy Bingham, a 33 year old program manager from Portland began
training with me for the marathon. It was clear from the start that hers was
not going to be the easy path. For Cindy, warm up was not a 10-minute no-biggie-deal
activity. For her, the transition from shopping the mall pace
to striding out took over 30 minutes. And, without an extended warm up, she
experienced searing pain in her legs. I would watch her start out with walkers
who could naturally transition to their steady pace fairly quickly. Invariably,
they would be ready to go and stride off ahead leaving her struggling behind
them.
Her group leader (aka Marathon Angel) would slip in next to her
as the tears streamed down her cheeks and begin regaling her with tails of
her dyslexic cat. Pretty soon Cindy would be smiling and walking comfortably.
Cindy would tell me later, I know I can do it if I just start a little
slower.
That's a remarkable statement: I know I can do it if I just start a
little slower. It contains faith and a clear understanding of how to
overcome a serious obstacle. There isn't a hint of poor pitiful me
or I think I'll go back to bed and pull the blankies up over my head.
Cindy Bingham knows quitting is not an option!
| In 2005, Cindy was back training. This time, she had
a sole sister and turned out to be a wonderful mentor. Meet Lisa Ryan of Lake Oswego. In February, Lisa and I were at the track doing a 1-mile, timed walk test. In this test, after a good warm up, you walk as fast as you can for a measured mile. The calculation of time and heart rate upon completion gives a pretty good estimate of fitness, or VO2max, . . . unless an injury rears its ugly head. After about an eighth of a mile into the test, it was clear that Lisa was in pain. She'd been in an auto accident a few years before and had injured her knee. The pain of that injury, combined with searing shin pain had her in their clutches. As she came around at the quarter mile mark, I asked her if she wanted to quit. I can do this, she declared through her tears. Nineteen minutes and one mile after starting, with tears rushing down her face, she was bent over at the sidelines. She looked up and said to me, this really hurts! I don't know how I can do another 25 miles!! Okay, there's the remarkable reaction: This really hurts! . . . an astute acknowledgment! . . . I don't know how I can do another 25 miles . . . recognition that achieving a marathon goal will take more information and perhaps outside intervention. Screaming, but unspoken was the assumption that quitting is not an option! |
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Like Cindy, Lisa is a fighter. I had an e-mail
on my desktop on Monday morning asking for feedback to overcome the challenges
before her. She talked to her doctor and was referred to a physical therapist.
Lisa rallied her support network. She talked to her coach. She got cheers
from her husband, a marathoner himself. She talked to Cindy who delighted
in being able to be the voice of experience and to assure her that yes,
this can be done.
Lisa wants everyone whose will falters to know they can do this. I am
a true believer, she says, that, if you set your mind to it and
keep your goal in mind you will accomplish it. Don't let anyone tell you that
you can't. Where there is a will, there is a way.
So there you have it, the story of the tail of the dog. These
are the folks who may not have the physical gifts to finish before the fog
burns off the river, but they come anyway for themselves. Their ranks are
filled with extraordinary ordinary people who walk the walk despite the buzzing
mosquito noises of some who may question whether their accomplishments mean
anything. Sure they do! They mean that today is the day that the road stretches
before me and I am able to greet it with strength of my body and a hearty
spirit.
Besides, quitting is not an option!
©2006 Ellie Hodder. All rights reserved. Reproduction prohibited without written permission.