Running Towards the Impossible

Lining up for the race I looked over at my dad He had a mixture of pride and fear written all over his face. I remember seeing my breath and the breath of all the other runners on that chilly morning. I thought briefly about the soccer game that I had after the race. And then that fear came over me. I am about to do the impossible.

I was 10 years old when I ran my first marathon. I had read about the St. Louis Marathon in the paper and told my dad that I wanted to run it. He didn’t discourage me. He didn’t tell me that I was too young to run 26.2 miles. He just put his section of the paper down, looked at me, and said “OK.”

When my dad said “OK” he was aware of my impossible task. No 10-year-old should be capable of running a marathon. My father also knew me and knew that I would not be deterred. However, he had the maturity to know that determination only gets you so far. You need to prepare.

There were marathon plans in 1982. But not for a 10-year-old. My father put together the best plan he could with his limited knowledge of running. Most marathon plans are 12-16 weeks long but my father put together a plan that was the better part of a year.

The plan was to slowly build up my mileage over the entire year. I began increasing my weekday miles and my weekend long runs. That first 10-mile run was awful. I came close to quitting. As I finished that run, my father pat me on the back, said that he was proud of me, and wrapped a blanket around me. The next day I ran my recovery run.

After that initial struggle with the 10-miler, the long weekend runs became easier. Most of them were various loops that would take me back to the house. My dad would tell me that it was to check on my pace, but I now know it was so that he could make sure that I was safe and healthy.

As the training went on the impossible seemed more and more manageable. The year-long training allowed for setbacks and for me to taper off and then ramp back up. Failures, loss of motivation, and injury were insulated by the plan. The long runs increased slowly up to 20 miles. When I finally reached the day of the 20-mile training run, I felt stronger than that first 10-mile run.

Lined up at that race, overcome with fear, I took a deep breath. The cold air filled my lungs. As I exhaled my shoulders relaxed. I looked over at my father and the fear on his face had dissipated. He saw my fear leave me and he knew at that moment that he would see me at the finish line. The gun went off and so did I. 26 miles later I turned the corner. I heard the announcer exclaim, “here comes Shaun Burke, the youngest runner to ever run the St. Louis Marathon!”

Passion, determination, preparation, and support led a 10-year-old to accomplish the impossible.

And that is the Transformative Power of the Run.