RunMaryRun

Disney Dreams and Mom’s PR

In honor of my extraordinary Mom, I am posting the story of her half-marathon PR at Disney. She’s run four half marathons, but the one at Disney was super special, in addition to it being her PR.

Here we go:

Born Under a Good Sign: Disney 2007.

Long distance races are tough. You can train like a fanatic, prepare religiously and still have things go wrong. Sometimes, after those kinds of races, you blame it all on bad karma. But what happens when you catch all the breaks? The 2007 edition of the Disney Half Marathon was just such an event.  It was the first event my mother and I ever did together and from the plane ride to finish line, this race was born under a good sign.

On the Delta flight, we met Nyree. Bright and vivacious, she was talkative as only a first time marathoner can be. Her boyfriend of several years had just proposed and her entire family was traveling to Disney to support her race effort. After congratulating her, I imparted as much marathon knowledge as I could. As we disembarked, Nyree turned to me, “ I really want to thank you. I was so nervous and scared, but I feel so much better. This race means a lot to me; my doctors said I would never exercise again.” I stared back quizzically as she continued,” I lost a part of my lung to cancer a few years ago, and the doctors said I would never make it. Now I get to prove them wrong.” As mom and I were digging for tissues to combat the effects of her words, we were interrupted by a handsome, young runner calling out, “Mary! Hey Mary! How do I get to the packet pick up?” I wrote down his directions and I thought: good race karma.

At dawn the next day, we met Deborah in our starting corral. She was running the race with her kids. They did the event every year, she explained, but this year was different. Her husband was recovering from a bout with cancer and her son was taking his spot in the race. Before the sniffles could get the best of her, my mother hugged Deborah. As the starting fireworks boomed overhead, she thanked us and told us to watch for her husband near mile eight. Good race karma.

This event was my Mom’s second half marathon, but you would not know by the pace we set in the early miles. I knew that she was on pace for a PR by 15 minutes, but our conversation stayed away from the topic. Like any long run, the discussion was mostly about other runners and the weather for the first four miles. I knew we had settled in at mile five when she mentioned my dad. He has been gone for a decade now, and never got the opportunity to see this. We laughed and joked about what he would say: what would he think of his girls getting up at three am to do a half marathon? Right then that we got a a beautiful surprise. The sun, which had been threatening to rise for an hour, finally pierced the grayness of the early morning. In that first clear light, there was a rainbow that stretched far across the sky, with brilliant colors. It appeared to end right over the gates of the Magic Kingdom, a half-mile from our position on the course. Suffice to say, the rainbow’s appearance did not go unnoticed. Thousands of runners were yelling and pointing; snapping away with their cameras. We smiled to each other: good race karma.

Mile six is the best spot in the whole race. You have come down Main Street USA, and are heading straight for Cinderella’s castle. Mickey, Minnie, Donald and many other characters are waving you on. Early morning park visitors are cheering and you feel great. At the foot of the bridge to Tomorrowland is a small green, with a beautiful view of the castle. On race morning, it is filled with spectators supporting their friends and family. This morning it was packed by a huge group of “Team-in-Training” members craning their necks to search the crowd.  They did not have to wait long; their runners were right behind us. A huge cheer went up as a young couple peeled off to the side and over to the green. As they approached, the group parted and a middle aged dad stepped out. He took his daughter’s arm and they strode up to the front of the green, where a justice of the peace and a wedding party togged out in purple and green were waiting. As the young couple said, “ I do” the team waved signs and blew whistles in celebration. Neither one of us needed to say anything about my upcoming wedding: just chalk it up to good race karma.

At mile ten, the real work set in. Mom had caught a nasty leg cramp and we were forced to adjust our pace. To complicate things further, a race marshal shouted a confusing invective as we passed by: all competitors needed to get to the finish line in forty-five minutes or they would be removed from the course. This was completely unbelievable; that timing would require a pace much faster than the course limit. Murmurs of disapproval rippled around us; a voice behind me said exactly what everyone seemed to be thinking: “ does that mean we won’t get our medal?”

Hannah, the owner of the voice, was doing her first ever half marathon. The thought of being pulled from the race clearly terrified her. Hannah’s training partner, Martha, was equally upset. They shared with us that they were competing in honor of family:  Martha’s husband and Hannah’s brother were both battling cancer. Neither one wanted to let anyone down by not finishing. I calculated our splits and did a quick estimate on our arrival time; we would make it if we hustled. All three of the women agreed, and steadily we increased our pace.

By mile eleven, Epcot was in sight and my mom was the picture of determination. Her jaw was set and her arm swing powerful; all conversation stopped. At mile twelve, we passed though the gates of the park, and onto the main concourse. This out and back section is soul crushing and Hannah and Martha dropped back. My mother had other ideas. For the first time in my life, I watched the competitive side in her come out. In the last mile of the race she picked off dozens of people, and I had to give chase. The finish photo is very interesting, I am several feet behind her, yelling and pointing at my watch. My mom walked a PR by eighteen minutes, completing the race in 3:30 flat.

In the finish chutes we found Hannah and Martha, both of them grinning ear to ear. Congratulating each other, we made our way towards the medal stands. The Disney races are known for great medals, and I could not wait to see my mom receive hers. The crowd felt the same way about their own respective medals and, in the rush the race volunteers ran out of them. They had to call for more of them to be brought up and things began to look a little hectic. But my mom was standing next to a volunteer as she opened a second box of medals. Mom was one of the first athletes to get one. On the bus back to the hotel, she turned the giant Donald-shaped medal over and over in her hands.

“ So you think you’d like to do one of these again? “ I queried. “ I hear that Rock N Roll Virginia Beach is fantastic. We could make a trip out of it.”

“How much did I beat my time by?”

“Eighteen minutes. So what do you think? Want to do another one?”

She turned to me and smiled. “ Probably. Let’s just enjoy this one first, though, ok?”

That sounded great to me. Just as long as our karma holds.