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My 48th Marathon

Posted on February 10th, 2006

I’ve run many marathons over the years, 48 to be exact, as well as coached thousands of runners across the finish line, but this year’s Rock ‘N’ Roll Marathon in San Diego was a run I’ll never forget. This year I crossed the finish line flanked by both of my daughters, Kerry and Chris. Kerry, 32, is a marathon veteran and has always shared my love of running. Chris, 36, is a newcomer and we spent six months training together for what would be her first marathon.

Chris has never considered herself to be an athlete of any sort and for her the marathon course seemed a task to drive much less travel by foot. She attempted to participate in the L.A. Marathon several years ago with her husband, but she did not complete the training. However, this year the timing was right for the San Diego ‚ÄòRNR‚Äô Marathon on June 5th. Chris wanted to lose some weight and get of of town with her husband and son for a short vacation. I had a great idea, ‚ÄúLet‚Äôs go to San Diego for three or four days and while we are there we can run the San Diego ‚ÄòRNR‚Äô Marathon.‚Äù She must have thought, ‚ÄúSame old Dad…everything is tied into a running event.‚Äù After trying to get her running for years this time Chris said, ‚ÄúHey, why not?‚Äù. She could do something to lose weight, get away with the family and be the last in the family to cross the finish line.

Chris outfitted herself in the proper running attire and I drew up a five-month training program that would require Chris and me to run 3-minutes and walk 3-minutes for the 26.2 mile distance. Our target finish time was a pedestrian six hours and thirty minutes.

Chris worked diligently and followed her schedule with her usual discipline and spirit to succeed. Wind, rain and heat did not stop her from her training regimen. She and I started out in January by walking for 20 minutes, then 30 minutes. By the second week she was jogging 30-seconds and walking two minutes and 30 seconds. As the months went on we increased the length of our training sessions as well as built up to a 3-minute jog/3-minute walk. We also completed a number of timed distance runs of four hours and more. Every week Chris shared her doubt that she could go further or faster but I knew she could and she did.

Race day game and it was a marvelous cool cloudy morning. Chris, thinner after losing 30 pounds during training, and I were joined on the starting line by Kerry‚Äôs boyfriend, Michael. Kerry, injured in training, would be joining us at the 13-mile mark and assist her big sister across the finish line. The gun sounded and off we went, clockwise around Balboa Park and down into the city of San Diego. We ran past the new baseball stadium, U.S. Navy Ship — USS Midway, up Broadway through the Gaslamp District and back uphill into Balboa Park. And what an incline, over 3-miles.

Michael had run on ahead and Chris and I stayed right on the 3/3 — run/jog pace. To conserve energy for the long haul we changed the pace to 2-minutes run and 3-minutes walk when going uphill.

At the 12-mile mark we were greeted by our personal cheering section of family members. Not a dry eye in the group. Kerry joined us to complete the distance. Everything was going as planned until the 16-mile mark when Chris had her first doubts about being able to go the distance. After a few tears and a pep talk from her sister, Chris got her second wind and was back on pace as we entered Mission Bay where our family spent many summers when the girls were young. It hit me then how different this race was from all the rest. Running past the beach where my daughters played as girls made me so proud of who they are today and that they wanted to run this race with their old Dad. At 20-miles, Chris could see the light at the end of the tunnel and she turned to me and said, “Now I know I am going to finish this race”. The last 10k was a little slower with more walking than planned, but the goal was to finish and before Chris knew it, she was entering the USMC Recruit Depot, half a mile from her race medal.

Finishing 50-minutes behind Michael, Chris, Kerry and I ran past our cheering family and crossed the line in six hours and forty-five minutes. Never before have I felt so proud of being a coach, a runner or a father as I did crossing that line with my daughters. Smiles and tears greeted the latest and last member of the Connelly family to complete a marathon. Did I say last? Just the other day, Chris’s three year old son, Brady Patrick Adams, ran around a 400-meter track without stopping. After his lap, not even breathing hard and looking energized, he looked at his Mommy and Papa (that’s me) and said smiling, “Mommy, can I do it again?”