Tales from the Trail: Staying Dry

It’s a small world. I was one of 17,000 runners at the L.A. Marathon this year, yet somehow I managed to recognize an acquaintance amid the throng of strangers.

I got a late start, in large part because I decided to miss the initial rush of runners and visit the porta-potties when the starting gun was going off. (Thanks to the blessing of timing chips, starting late doesn’t matter!) But that means I spent much of the first few miles passing people. One of them, I noticed, was wearing a pro-life bumper sticker on his back, which is, trust me, not a common sight in Los Angeles. So as I passed this brave soul, I decided to turn my head and glance at his face — only to discover that it was one of my mother-in-law’s friends, someone I didn’t even know was a runner!

We exchanged a quick and hello and he told me that his 30ish son, Brendan, was also running that day, somewhere up ahead. That was happy news. Brendan had been in a severe car accident years ago, from which he was still recovering. To hear that he was running a marathon was both hopeful and inspiring.

Anyway, fast forward to a couple of weeks later, and I’m visiting my doctor about the marathon’s most enduring legacy — a sore knee. My doctor happens to also be the family physician for Brendan and his dad. (As I said, small world.) So I told him about the wonderful coincidence of encountering them at the race, and that moved him to tell me an even better story.

It happened a few of years ago, when Brendan, still recuperating from his car accident, first tried to run a marathon. It poured cats and dogs that day, and about some 17 miles into the race, Brendan called over his dad to tell him he had had enough. He was ready to quit. Dad tried to dissuade him — he was worried that the disappointment could affect Brendan’s recovery — and as they talked, a spectator who lived in a house nearby gathered that something was up. So he approached them and got the full story.

At that point, he invited Brendan into his house and offered him the use of his hot tub for as long as it took to revive himself. He then gave him a set of his own work-out gear — nice, warm and dry — to wear for the rest of the race, which Brendan completed, much to his and his father’s delight.

Although it wasn’t raining when I ran the L.A. Marathon, I was blown away by how the community really took interest in the race and in the runners. Those who lived along the course would stand out on their lawns cheering, offering fruit, water, or sunscreen. In the latter miles, their encouragement provided a real boost.

And in the case of Brendan, one kind neighbor did a good deed that not only helped a man finish a race, but gave him the confidence that has propelled his recovery.

"We give thanks to God always for all of you, making mention of you in our prayers; constantly bearing in mind your work of faith and labor of love and steadfastness of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ in the presence of our God and Father."

— 1 Thess. 1:2-3