Life: Through the Lens of a Marathon

Hey guys! It’s been a while since I’ve posted, hell I’m not even sure I’ve posted during 2017. I think Molly Alesch and I have been the slackers of the blog lately lol. I’ll own it. Anyway, since it has been so long since I’ve posted I would like to talk about an accomplishment of mine that occurred nearing the end of 2016. For those of you that do not follow me as closely on social media, December 2016, I ran my FIRST marathon here in Memphis with my sister Jill Finken and brother-in-law, John Finken. Before I even begin to talk about what I have planned, I would first and foremost like to encourage anyone who has ever considered heck hasn’t ever considered running a marathon, to just fucking do it. It’s amazing, magical, terrifying, and shitty and the most awesome thing you will ever do. So do it.

I think one of the main reasons my marathon experience sticks out to me isn’t because of my time, isn’t because of the accomplishment in itself and it surely isn’t because it was fun. The reason this memory is so keen is because of my family. I use family very loosely because not only did my sister Anne, Dad, Niece and Nephew all came down to support Jill, John and I running in this race, but my friends Jennie and Soren and principals all came out to support me in this endeavor. It was very motivating to see their smiling faces encouraging me from the sideline when I was perhaps, hating my life, so to say.

Running a marathon is a very good example of the way life works in cycles. Sometimes we are the ones running and leading the pack while other times we are the ones that need to be ran with. At the beginning of the race, I started out strong. I started out at about an 8 minute mile. When I got to mile 8, I saw my principals. I was still feeling pretty good at this point in time and seeing them made me feel even better. My principals both hugged me and my assistant principal gave me a drink, or should I say made me, drink a sip of her mimosa for a boost of energy. I continued running and got to mile 12, the mile in which the marathoners broke away from the half marathoners. I was full of adrenaline as my mind was saying, “You’re really fucking doing this.” My adrenaline only continued to release, as right around the corner I could see my dad, Trevor (my nephew), Brooklyn (my niece) and Sister Anne. It was encouraging to hear my dad say, “Good job, Kris!” and hit Trevor’s hand for a high five. One could say I was on the “high point” of life.

Now, everyone knows that with every high point in life, there HAS to be a low point that either got you to that high point OR that is coming after the high point to only make you appreciate that high point even more. Let me tell you, MILES 13- 19 SUCKED MAJOR NUTSACK FOR ME. I’m not even kidding when I tell you I can’t even count how many times I thought about walking off the track quitting. I was exhausted mentally and physically, hurt and had minimal motivation left. Around mile 16, my brother in law, who pretty much had busted out his knee 3 weeks before the race, passed me. That gave me a little energy because I got to see a familiar face in the trenches, but was mostly defeating because the dude with the crippled knee was now taking the lead to me lmao. My mental state only became worse. I had reached my low point. Surprisingly throughout this shit storm, I never walked. I kept going through the hurt because I knew I would eventually finish.

I was coming up on mile 19 and was becoming a little anxious, as I hadn’t seen my friends, Jennie and Soren, yet. They promised me they would come and cheer me on and I was worried they had missed me. I turned the corner, I was on the street very close to my house, and I saw two familiar faces glancing out into the crowd of runners. I was filled with energy and screamed, “JENNIE!” I sped up and ran to them in tears. I gave them both hugs and said, “I’m fucking doing this!” I continued to run and keep a steady pace as I knew my family would be at mile 20 again.

I was coming up to mile 20 and my pace had wavered again because like I said running a marathon is hard. I once again see my dad standing on the side of the road. This time, I didn’t have the energy to pick up my pace. I kept my slow, consistent pace and couldn’t squeak out an excited yell. I was once again back or simply returned to a low point of life. Instead of yelling and cheering me on, my dad said, “Good pace, Kris. Let’s go.” My dad ran with me up until the end of the street where I was greeted by my sister Anne and Brooklyn’s smiling faces. My dad said, “Take over, Trev,” and Trevor proceeded to run with me for a portion of the street. He of course ran faster than I did, as he is an 8 year old ball of energy. Trevor stopped running once I got so far and my sister Anne yells out, “You’re almost there Kris! You can do it!” My friends and family didn’t necessarily get me out of my low point, but they sure as heck carried me through it and made the suck, suck a little less.

I had 6.2 more miles to do. I told myself if I could just keep putting one more foot in front of the other, I could make it. I kept a count in my head. I counted 1,2,3,4 with every step and then would start over again. I knew it was just me and the open road from here on out, as the next time I would see anyone would be the finish line. I made it to mile 23 no issue and started to falter again, until “Jju Jju On That Beat” came on the loud speaker. This immediately made me think of my students. I actually started doing the dance to the song while I was running. I dedicated mile 23 to my kids.

I eventually made it to the finish line. It’s crazy how much energy I got once I knew how close to the end I was. I think I sprinted across the finish line. My sister Jill who came in before me said, “Kris, you don’t even look tired.” I was exhausted though, it was just masked with a lot of happy emotions. As you can see, I would not have been able to complete the marathon without the support of my family and friends. Well, I could have, but it would have just sucked even more lol. A marathon captures the beautiful and not so beautiful moments of life. Sometimes you are the one who is doing the lifting (high on adrenaline and cheering with everyone) and sometimes you are the one who needs to be lifted (having your 68 year old father run with you a portion of the race). The low points may not seem as beautiful as the high points in life, but there is definitely beauty to be found within them. Peace out, blogsters <3.