In the spring of 1991, I was completing my Junior year in high school. The biggest problem most of my friends were having was which dress to wear to the prom. Every day, during our free periods, my friends Kate and Ann would talk about their exciting experiences with their mothers at the mall and whether strapless or sleeveless was more "in." I sat and listened with my mouth clamped so shut that my teeth ached. My mother wasn’t able to take me to the mall to try on dresses. My mother was in a diabetic coma in the hospital and had been in one ever since her cardiac arrest three weeks earlier. That spring, when my mom was finally diagnosed with diabetes, was one of the toughest times my family ever went through. When my mom finally came home from the hospital, she weighed a whopping 99 pounds and slept constantly for three months. Her hair had turned completely gray from shock, and she could barely make herself a meal. These are not pleasant memories and, sometimes, I wish that I could erase them from my brain altogether. However, they proved extremely valuable to me when I decided to become a member of "Team Diabetes" to fundraise and run in the 1999 Bermuda Marathon.
For someone who does not have a "running base," training for a marathon is extremely difficult, but not impossible. When the concept of raising $3,000 is added to the equation, the "team" becomes a second full-time job for five months. I began by running fifteen miles a week and slowly upped that total to between thirty and forty miles a week. As my coach CB Yelverton says, "Marathon training is fatigue training." The first time I ran seventeen miles, I was totally debilitated. Every muscle in my body ached and my head throbbed in pain. One month later, when I ran my first twenty-one miler, I felt relatively alright. The idea is that, steadily and slowly, one increases the mileage by no more than ten percent of the previous total distance. Along with weight training, endurance is supposed to increase dramatically. It works. However, as the running distance increases, the amount of time for one’s relaxation and social life decreases drastically until, about one and a half months before the marathon, every non-working hour is spent in training. I found it very hard to see friends, to stay awake during rented movies, and to have any quality time with my boyfriend.
However, as I lost time for other factors in my life, the vision of my goal became more and more clear. In my mind, I was travelling up a tiny straight pin, away from its point and towards its head. In the beginning, the point was pricking me. I felt that the training and fundraising was too difficult. However, with every new distance run and new sponsor check totaled, I was a fraction of a millimeter closer to the circular plateau at the pin’s top. As the months progressed, my work no longer filled the dominating position in my life. It became a rudimentary task I had to do so that I could run in the afternoons and evenings with my team and coach. I smiled more. I hummed more. I even sang in the shower. I was actually running farther and for longer than I ever dreamed I could. I called my parents almost daily to give them "the running update."
This January, as I neared the twenty-three mile mark of my first marathon, I knew the end was in sight. I only had 3.2 miles to go to reach the pin head. The only problem was that my legs felt as if someone was bending them backwards, forcing them into contorted positions that caused extreme pain every time I either lifted or lowered them. It was then that I made myself think back to those memories of my high school junior year. It was then that I realized that all memories, including painful ones, are what make us who we are as people.
Ever since that horrible spring, my mother has shown enormous courage and diligence in fighting her disease. Like millions of others with diabetes, she has continually watched her diet and has exercised religiously in order to keep her blood sugar levels under control. However, my mother is not like other diabetics. She is in a league of her own when it comes to mastering her diabetes. She has co-authored two gourmet heart-healthy diabetic cookbooks, is co-publisher of this website, and has counseled with thousands of people on how to treat the disease. Throughout triple bypass surgery, numerous insulin shots, and constant bouts with hypoglycemia, my mother has never wavered in her positive attitude. In my opinion, she is a real life hero.
During the marathon, whenever I felt like I had to stop, I thought about how my mom has the ability to turn what could be a negative life into an extremely positive one. With every step towards the finish line, I took my strength from the example she continues to set for me every day of my adult life. I realize now that, although negative memories never go away, with hard work and focus, we can use them as the basis to create positive ones. In fact, I learned that, if we create enough positive memories, ultimately, we will make the negative ones seem more miniscule than the smallest pin point and then they won’t be able to prick us anymore.
For more information about how to run or walk for "Team Diabetes," contact the local chapter of your American Diabetes Association. They are always looking for new recruits!
