Death: The Ultimate Finish Line [by a Missoula Half-Marathon runner]

Death: The Ultimate Finish Line
Written by: Katie Barrett-Stevens

Death can make you do funny things… like make you in to a runner. My husband’s brother Nathan and his best friend Bryan were killed on the Sphinx Mountain in Madison County, Montana in 2004. It is a formidable looking mountain, maybe because it looks exactly as it sounds.

Nate and Bryan were active outdoorsmen. They ran, they hiked, they climbed, you name it they did it. And then one day it all stopped. And all of us close to them felt that feeling… it just stopped. They were no longer running, they were no longer hiking, they were no longer climbing. Yet, we were all still here. What could we do? Nathan had run the Penticton Peach City Marathon for his 21st birthday. I remember thinking he was crazy, and the crazy part was he took it easy and managed a 3:33 time. After he died in October, we were all searching for ways to best honor these two young men. Fall turned in to winter, and winter was soon going to be spring, the time when we should be celebrating both Nate and Bryan’s birthdays. Then it came, my answer… Penticton was the same weekend that Nathan would have been turning 26. My husband and I had two very small children and lived three states away from family. Training for a marathon just wasn’t going to happen, but Penticton gave an option for a half marathon. It felt so right, so Nate, I signed up right away.

The words from 2 Timothy carried me across the finish line, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith”. I was shocked as I looked at the time and it read 2:10:34! I did it, I made my goal of a 2:10 race and I did it with Nate. About this time my dad had called to tell me that he was in the hospital with congestive heart failure and pancreatitis. Things were not good, but they weren’t so bad either. The heart condition was irreversible, but the pancreatitis was, if he quit drinking. We played this don’t ask don’t tell game for a long time, until dad came to me and said that he hadn’t quit drinking or smoking, and that his last appointment with his cardiologist showed an aneurysm, in his aorta. My husband and now three small children had moved back closer to Missoula in 2007; we made it to Hayden, Idaho. Which was perfect for my dad as the only surgeon on the west side of the states that performed surgeries for aortic abdominal aneurysms was in Spokane. Dad asked if I would come with him.

The conclusion, Dad had a 30% chance of making it off the table alive with the health problems compounding the danger of opening his aorta. If he did survive the surgery he had a 3-6 month recovery period. The doctor told us if the aneurysm did rupture he would bleed out in 4 minutes, it would be painless. We waited 6 months to decide. The decision was let’s take what we can get. He opted no on the surgery.

March 21, 2010 I got the phone call I had been dreading, my dad’s aneurysm had burst and he had died.

Death makes you do funny things, like deciding to keep training for the Missoula ½ Marathon. It took me more than a month to get back on my feet. Not to mention between the two races I had completed, I had another child, and put on 50 pounds. I made my decision to finish my training late one night looking through all my dad’s pictures.

He was 57 years old, I realized (I had just turned 28) that half his life was already over at my age. I made a promise to my husband, my children, and myself. I would not meet my ultimate finish line because of choices I made to make myself unhealthy. If I were needed on the other side it certainly wouldn’t be because of me. So I carried Nate and Dad with me across another finish line, and smiled when I looked to my left and saw my husband finishing Missoula next to me in 2:17!

Death can make you do funny things, like running to the next finish line, and ending the day knowing that if the ultimate one comes tomorrow, at least I did my best today.

Why I Run - Missoula Marathon

Why I Run
by Andrew A. Hunt

In the beginning there was only one reason I wanted to finish the Missoula Marathon, but it seems the list grows every time someone asks me about it.

The conversation goes like this:

“I’m training for the Missoula Marathon.”

“Really, why?”

“Three reasons, well, actually four, no wait, more like seven, have you got a few minutes?”

Stacking up reasons to stick with running is a good thing. The further I run, the deeper I get into the training, the more reasons I discover to keep going. It feels good, gives me some alone time, reduces the belly, puts me in touch with a great and supportive community of runners, improves my mood, you know the list. I don’t have to convince myself to push through the aches and grumblings of muscles and joints, nor rely on doctors’ orders to roll out of bed, lace up, and head down the road. When it comes to running, I’m a convert.

But, obviously, it wasn’t always this way.

I smoked cigarettes for the better part of two decades and often (too often) indulged in the worst “nutrition” on the dollar menu. I wasn’t overweight, but couldn’t claim to be fit. Although I kicked the butts a couple of years ago, my body was long past the easy cruising of my 30’s. It seemed like I had a choice, either surrender to the slow physical decline I felt taking hold around my belly (yeah, skinny guys get spare tires too) or do something, anything, to start moving in the other direction.

The notion to “do” a marathon started as a whim in the back of my mind akin to the phrase “let’s do lunch”. I had friends who jumped into marathon training courses and went from zero to 26.2 in a matter of months; I knew it was physically possible, you just sign-up and go. Right? But what, besides a t-shirt, improved cardio, and basic bragging rights, was in it for me? There are countless ways to get in shape, and running a marathon wasn’t on my bucket list, but the idea quietly started to seduce me. I started considering it. I didn’t dash out to buy shoes and shorts like Albert Brooks in “Modern Romance” (that happened later), but I flagged the idea as a possible option I might decide to pursue at some point in the undetermined future.

The more I “considered” it, the more intrigued I became.

I started to imagine what the training might be like with hours of quiet toil, alone on the road, no one making me take that next step but my own determination. I started to realize that training involved the necessity of time and repetition to build up strength and endurance, I couldn’t phone in the effort. If I were going to run a marathon I would really have to commit to the process. I didn’t know if I was up for the task, but I was curious. Could I get out and pound the pavement in the cold, or heat, the rain or snow, late afternoons after a long day or even worse, early in the morning while the rest of the family slumbered in warm beds? Did I have what it took to not hit the snooze on the alarm? That sort of commitment requires something that I was always a bit short on in my life, something that had been missing that I envied in others and secretly coveted - discipline.

And there it was, my first real reason for attempting a marathon. To get to the end of the race I would have to learn discipline. Self-mastery would be mine! I didn’t learn it in my yoga stances, meditation practice, or Zen study. I started writing and abandoned several dozen great American novels and have a collection of interesting, and dusty, musical instruments around my home office. I have pursued many enriching endeavors that excited and engaged me at some point, but soon fell to the way-side simply because they required regular attention in order to grow and flourish. I know that the best things in life are usually the hardest to accomplish because they take time and dedication. I can preach that verse but don’t readily practice the concept. Maybe I am weak willed, have a short attention span, am too self-conscious to pull off a downward dog in public, or simply give up when the going gets tough. Whatever the specific reason, I am fully aware of my inability to commit to things that would generally improve my quality of life. Self-awareness kind of sucks sometimes, but hope springs eternal.

So, armed with what I thought a darn good reason, I declared my intentions to run a marathon. I signed up for the Missoula Marathon training class, got some shoes (cue Albert Brooks shopping spree) and was so giddy I had a hard time going to sleep that night. The next day was my first “real” run, a frosty February morning with temperatures dipping in the teens, but I sprinted out the door at sunrise with a genuine smile on my face. My first two miles were logged on February 15, 2010.

Ten weeks later I was icing a stress fracture in my ankle and contemplating a crawl across the living room to retrieve the television remote.

It was all too far, too fast, too soon. Enthusiasm had crippled me during a ten-mile long run; call it an eager beginner’s mistake. Once I got a taste of it I wanted to run every day, further and faster. Every run was a contest to beat out a few more seconds, to tack on another half mile. It felt great, mostly, and so I kept going and ignored the warning signs my body was shouting at me.

After the x-rays were examined and the walking boot firmly applied it was obvious that I would not be getting the t-shirt and bragging rights as planned. I was still going to physical therapy twice a week when the 2010 Missoula Marathoners raced across the valley in glorious sunshine. Finally in August after several setbacks and lingering pain my doctor gave me the nod along with a photocopied handout titled “Return to Run Program”. My first distance was a quarter mile walk followed by a quarter mile “jog”. Reading that handout hurt almost as much as the injury, but this is what I signed on for, so out the door I went. The genuine smile was not along for that jaunt.

When February rolled around I was barely up to five miles, but they were healthy miles. I signed up for the Missoula Marathon training class again, got a new pair of shoes, and discovered that the genuine smile had returned to my face when we all started off on the first training route.

My path to the end of my first marathon, it turns out, is neither straight nor nearly as rapid as I expected. But I have no complaints; I got exactly what I wanted. Through the injury and road to recovery I started to learn the discipline I sought. I thought I had to commit to getting out and running far and fast. It turns out the real and harder commitment is to run well. My ego has learned to accept the slower pace, taking more recovery days, easing off on the short runs if I’m feeling winded and carefully pacing the long runs. Even with my caution and care I could end up on the sidelines again this year watching the race. Injuries happen, my knees are starting to complain and the miles keep piling on. So if not this year, then next, or the year after, or however long it takes to get to the finish line. I started this process because I wanted to learn, to grow, to find something undiscovered within me and I’m starting to think this race may be a bit longer than 26.2.

-Andrew A. Hunt

Darby Woman to run first-ever 1/2 Marathon at the Missoula Marathon after donating kidney to husband

I have just entered the Missoula Half Marathon 2011, which will be my first ever! I also just gave my husband, Jared, a kidney on March 29th, 2011! We are still in Seattle, but will soon be home! We live in Darby [which is about 60 miles south of Missoula]. My husband grew up near Darby, I grew up near Bozeman. We've been here [in Seattle] for over a month now. They said Jared would be in the hospital a week, possibly more. But they let him out in 5 days-that's including surgery day! We are both doing very well. Even our doctors are impressed!

We've been spending our time between Jared's appointments going to the zoo, aquarium, locks, fish ladder, waterfront, science center, etc. And we've been getting on the bike and treadmill in the hotel's gym.

We are looking forward to going home on Saturday.

We've been married for over 11 years and have two children. Caitlyn is 8 and Denali is 5. They are both entered in the Kids Marathon!!

This has been such an amazing experience! God is good!

I am so excited to run my first half marathon [in Missoula]!

Serica Lucas

Swiss runners planning to run the 2011 Missoula Marathon

Since its inaugural running in 2007, the Missoula Marathon has attracted runners from around the world, including Australia, Japan, Sweden, Hong Kong, Scotland, and Delaware. Sometimes, as with our first Delaware runner last year, a participant is willing to tell us a little bit about themselves. This year, the Swiss Family Metzler - Hans, Monika, and Linus - will travel from Switzerland 12 weeks after Hans completed the Zurich Marathon and son Linus finished the relay - while wearing Missoula Marathon shirts. Hans has sent us the following blog post.

I am Hans (49) from Switzerland. We - my wife Monika and our son Linus (16) - will visit Montana this summer. Linus and I are runners, Monika loves horse riding, small wonder we will visit Montana ;-)

I started running after several knee surgeries; I played soccer before and still do some mountain biking. So, when I ran my first marathon and I was hooked. Today, I run almost every day. Why do we come to Montana? For the last 15 years, we often travelled in the region from Northern Alaska south to Idaho, Washington and Montana. These regions are great to be outdoors for hiking, fishing, wildlife, etc. during July (in recent years, July is the only time we can travel). So, this year, it is Montana again, we will hike most of our time in the Beartooth Absaroka Mountains, fly-fishing the lakes up there.

Back to running: I run often, I follow a training program, but I run for fun, for relaxing (yes!) and 5 or 6 times a year, I am joining a running event. Since Linus started to join me (and he runs faster every month, so he will take the lead soon), I enjoy it a lot more, especially after work. When planning our trip, I found out “hey, there is a marathon in Missoula, let’s run it!” OK, it’s only 12 weeks from the Zurich marathon to the Missoula marathon, but I will try. So, we registered for the race, Linus will run the half marathon, I will do the long one. Monika keeps wondering how we are doing the first days backpacking in the mountains after the race (I am wondering too).

I had some questions and soon I got in contact with Jennifer and she offered me some shirts. So, when I was running the Zurich Marathon, Linus, his two cousins Andrina and Domenica, and Marc (a fine substitute for our 4th runner, who had to cancel due to illness) were running the 42 km as a team. For Linus it was clear (and he made sure) that all of his teammates were wearing the proper shirt. Why is the team called “Chatterbox”? I f you would know Linus, you wouldn’t ask! I promised Jennifer to send a picture of some Missoulian shirts in action – here it is!

BTW: It will be my second US marathon. No, not New York, not Boston: In 2007 I was running the first KMXT Marathon in Kodiak, Alaska. It was a very cold October day, so most of the registered runners decided to run the half marathon, and only maybe 20 runners were finishing the long distance. I was the winner, which was cool! You don’t have many chances to win an inauguration marathon in your life, especially when your usual running time is around 3 h 20. The Kodiak run-the-rock marathon is held every year, still very small, but no crowds and so cool (cold).

So, we are happy to meet you on July 10th! There are so many friendly people like Vic and Vo. We hope we can meet you in person. RWM must be very active from what I could gather consulting your website, congrats!

See you and join in

Hans & Family