The Three Amigos
“Alone we can do so little, together we can do so much.”
I was inspired today as I watched my husband, Brad, run his first marathon. For the past four months, four days a week, he has been running to prepare. The temperature was chilly this morning as he waited for the race to start. He stood shivering in his neon tee shirt beside his two training buddies. All three of them had decided to conquer the race together.
The trail of runners spread out across the city of Des Moines, Iowa. Each participant had an identification bib that could be tracked on the Marathon App. From my phone, I could see where Brad was on the trail. What a nifty idea, I thought as we drove from one location to the next to catch a glimpse of him with his two friends. I like to call them the Three Amigos. Watching from the sideline, I felt envious of their camaraderie.
Do you have a friend who encourages you to do hard things?
To be honest, I don’t. Why? Because doing hard things intimidates me.
How many people seek out someone to help them accomplish the impossible?
This is the kind of guy I married. He likes to do hard things, he doesn’t want to live a mediocre life. He lives on the edge making people either rally toward him or back away in discomfort. As I watched him pass me on mile 10, I realized the Brad I married and the one in the neon yellow shirt were two different men. I distinctly remember the 22-year-old groom saying he would never run a marathon.
Ha! Ha! I am so proud of how Brad has proven to himself he can do something he thought was impossible.
It just goes to show how we grow with time. We stretch and change as the years show us new dimensions of ourselves. On mile 15, I was supposed to meet him with a bottle of electrolytes and a banana, but I couldn't figure out how to get to the park he was running through. The main roads were blocked off. In frustration, we decided to go to the next destination on the marathon map. As we parked the car, Lydia, my navigator, and Judah, the little tag-a-long, tried to think of how to get the needed supplies to him.
In the park, Judah found the play equipment and Lydia agreed to watch him while I tried to run to catch Brad before he hit the 22-mile mark. I met him right around his 21st mile. He was happy to see me, but he had been separated from his buddies. Walking next to him as he consumed the supplies, he thanked me. Growing more exhausted with each mile he ran alone, he was happy to have someone to talk to. After running 21 miles, tired seemed like an understatement, so I ran with him the next mile. When Lydia saw us come around the corner, she took my place running the next two miles by his side.
Later she explained, “Mom I had to run with Dad, he has been there for me at every one of my cross-country meets.”
This was our little way of supporting him toward accomplishing the biggest goal he has ever set for his fitness. He would say our help brought him through the last 6 miles of the race, to its finish, in just under five hours.
I am inspired by his follow-through. Some people have asked me what it is like to be married to someone who goes after life with such a raw intensity. To be honest, at times I have grumbled about his zeal. Being married to someone doesn’t make you take on their traits automatically. It has to be a choice I make on my own.
When it comes to health and fitness, I often drag my feet. I don’t want my husband to tell me what to do, and yet if I would just follow his advice I know often I would feel a lot better. Today as I watched him persevere, I felt jealous. I wondered, what would it be like if I set a target goal in fitness and worked hard until it was accomplished. Such pondering makes me feel uncomfortable. Suddenly, I have an itching urge to make excuses.
At the end of the race, Brad waited for his friends to come across the finish line. Meanwhile, as the crowd cheered on other marathon finishers, I stood in awe of the magnitude of this accomplishment. One runner had tears streaming down her face. Another was holding his small child as he ran the last 50 yards. Some supporters held signs to help the individuals rally the last ounce of strength till the end. After the finish, the Three Amigos cheered for each other, hugged, and patted each other on the back. All three men were proud and happy for each other. Together they had accomplished a very difficult goal.
Together: with or in proximity to another person or people.
The word holds so much power. It is the secret behind the Three Amigos' success. If we are to do hard things we need accountability. We need a community cheering us on. It is hard to stick to a difficult challenge when you are doing it alone. In fact, how would we even know anyone else did a hard thing unless we bore witness to it?
“Two are better than one, because together they can work more effectively. If one of them falls down, the other can help him up. But if someone is alone and falls, it’s just too bad, because there is no one to help him.”
I know I need an accountability partner. The problem is I feel nervous about leaning on someone else. In my roles as wife and mother, I have been busy carrying the load for others. How could I possibly become vulnerable enough to ask someone to help me?
The ugly truth is: I fear becoming a burden to someone else, but watching Brad and his friends tackle their first marathon, I felt inspired. Maybe I could do something really hard too with the help of a friend.
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