Tami’s Perspective on St. George Marathon 2011

More than just a Run

October 2010 I signed up for the Runner Series where I would run 2 small races to an automatic St. George Marathon run.  So in January 2011, I ran a 5k and in March ran the Spectrum 10k.

Having been recently diagnosed with stage 4 cancer, I entered this race more determined than any other race I had ever run! I wanted to run with the Fatsos and have fun, but the lack of preparation until just 3 weeks prior, made it perhaps one of my hardest. 

It was difficult recovering from my surgery in August.  I had been training for the race up until about May, but by the beginning of June it became apparent that all of my training was to no avail as I was diagnosed with cancer of the Appendix.  While this was hard to swallow, for some goofy reason, the thought of not being able to run my marathon was even harder to swallow. But I was more determined than ever when my surgeon said, “Well, you won’t be running any marathons this year”.

Looking back, there were several factors that motivated me to start and finish this race. 

One of my main inspirations was my daughter. When you have one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel, you have to take advantage of an opportunity.  One of those opportunities was presented to me by my daughter Cali when she suggested that we run the race together.  I could see and feel a determination, “Way down Deep” in her eyes and heart and I wasn’t going to let her down….....Now it was about us, not just me.

Another motivating factor took place the night we were having porch drink down at grandmas.  One or both of the Fatsos was wearing a shirt with the inscription, “LIVE like you BELIEVE”. I told them I loved the shirt and even more the verbiage and asked where I could get one.  Fatso said he had a few left from youth conference and so Alice and I went over to pick one up.  While there, I shared with Alice the heaviness that was in my heart and how sad I was that I couldn’t run this year with the Fatsos.  She shared a documentary about a boy who had lost his parents in a fire and although he survived, 75% of his body was severely burnt.  He went on to say, “I am not my body”- I said, “Yeah….I am not my body either!"  It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the fight in the dog…and I still had that internal determination.  Alice said, “Tami you could at least start the race and do the best you can, you don’t need to finish.” So with that, and the two new additions to the “Fatso Running club”, Alice and He Who Shall Not be Named, I had new found Hope.  I started sneaking out for my midnight 3 mile walk.  The next night a slow jog and I thought, “Hey maybe I really could still run this race.”

 Another inspirational piece took place at grandmas. Again while sharing with all, Fatso reminded me of the Las Vegas Ragnar. As a group we all rallied together, but when it was our turn to run, we were let out of the group vehicle and we were then on our own.  He then slapped the Ragnar band around my arm and said, “This is your leg”.  While I believe he was suggesting I take the necessary measures to heal, I interpreted that healing to be a mental healing. 

The race of life is much like a marathon.  I’ve heard it said that the race is not always to the swift, but to those who keep on running…Physical, Mental, Spiritual and it took all three components for me to begin, run and finish my race.  I was very aware of my physical limitations; No training, recovering from surgery to get my weight and strength back to normalcy, and then the lack of sleep from the Wonder of it all.

As I started up the hill, about four-five miles in, Alice came running from behind, asked where I was hurting and I said, “Everywhere”.  Drawing on the strength provided by the thoughts of knowing my daughter, friends, niece, and nephews were all ahead of me, I was able to hang on.  As I finally neared the finish, I was so inspired by those still cheering, us being the last dogs standing, or barely moving, on.  I just might have met my goal to cross the finish line under 6 hours if I had not taken the time to thank those who were still cheering, one who was crippled and sitting in a wheel-chair, and all the others who provided cold water, encouragement and assistance. But I also would have missed the part that made this race the most meaningful; I could not have finished alone.  And it was people like that who made people like me go on to cross the finish line. 

So to all of you …. I send a Great Big THANKS, from the bottom of my Heart ….I could not have done this without you and I Loved it!

25 Seconds

On the first Saturday of October thousands of runners from nearly every state converge on the city of St. George. It’s been a tradition in Dixie now for 35 years. I (the old man) signed up again this year for a second attempt to run the marathon. My first attempt was in my opinion a complete success. I wanted to run a Boston Qualifying time. The standard for my age group was three hours and thirty minutes. I crossed the line in 3:24 and I smiled for days. I had many ask, are you going to run Boston. The answer was always the same, not this year, maybe next year.


I signed up for the St George Runners series which assured me a spot in the next marathon the
Monday morning after running and the preparation began. Although the next marathon was 363 days away I didn't wait. I had a job to do, I knew how to do it, and only I could do it. That’s one of the things I love about running, it’s up to you and only you. Sometime during my training that year I learned of a new standard for qualifying for the Boston Marathon. The minimum standard now is 5 minutes faster, and those running 20 minutes or 10 minutes faster get to sign up first.


I decided to try running 10 minutes faster than the minimum standard. I felt that would assure me a spot in Boston. My new goal time became 3 hours and 15 minutes. I designed an elaborate plan so as to best meet my goal. I worked hard and soon found myself boarding the bus at 5:00 am along with seven of my friends all wearing our Fatso Running Club shirts. Our shirts this year were designed to honor of one of our members. We approached the starting line, the gun sounded, we were off and running, each running with his or her own goal in mind. I crossed the finish line in 3 hours, 15 minutes and 25 seconds. I failed. I missed my goal by 25 seconds, which averages out to less than 1 second per mile. I was angry, frustrated and wanted to hit something, but I was so tired I could hardly stand. I had no energy left. I ran well but hit the dreaded wall at mile 23.


After eating and drinking so I wouldn’t pass out I headed for the massage tent. My toes and back hurt fiercely and I felt that I had somehow earned the right to a massage. Maybe a good rub down would ease my frustration. I had convinced myself that the 25 seconds had been taken from me; after all I had been training for 365 days. I stood in line at the massage tent and complained to anyone who would listen. I missed it by 25 seconds. What a tragedy! After waiting for what felt like an hour I was pointed to an empty table and my every muscle smiled during the massage.


I started to leave the tent and a wonderful man sitting in a wheelchair raised his prosthetic arm so as to get my attention, and asked me with an infectious smile, “So, how was your race?” I drew in a big breath so I could infect my next victim with my 25 second failure story. I was about to tell my new friend my sad story when he turned his wheelchair towards me and I noticed that both of his legs were gone. With no legs and a prosthetic arm he continued his smile and waited for my reply. I thought for a moment, and then replied with a thankful heart, “My race went well and I ran my fastest marathon yet.” (Which was true) He congratulated me and we parted company. I left the tent and was overcome with emotion. I was changed. My time in the massage tent was not wasted. My muscles received some much wanted attention, but my soul received a much needed lesson. So the next time someone asks, how was your race? Remember how wonderful it is that our legs are not gone and that we can run. Maybe we didn’t run as fast as we wanted to, or as fast as most of the other runners, but we got to run. We can
run. We can run. God Bless us everyone. God Bless our every run!