A STRANGER’S GIFT

I’ve always been a goal maker, shaping each year with personal growth challenges, career aspirations and bucket list wishes.  The wish list was full of dream experiences, not so much places to go but activities I wanted to try at least once in my life…. Surfing!  Check.  Was TERRIBLE…. Jumping out of a plane!  Check.  Final thoughts while tumbling out high above the earth, THIS IS TRULY CRAZY…. Summit Kilimanjaro! Check.  ONE OF THE BEST DAYS OF MY LIFE.

Wanting to continually push myself in work and in play, another hot list item was ‘Run a Marathon.’  I’m not a big runner.  I’ve always done short distances to help keep up my cardio fitness, but never more than 3 miles.  How does one do this?  26 miles seems an unfathomable distance.  Especially when panting and puffing at only 3.

I need a support team.  Structure.  Guidance.   Hmm.  Helping the greater good along the way not a bad idea either…. So I joined the Leukemia and Lymphoma Team in Training Program, running with other novices while raising money to fund research to fight and find a cure for cancer.   Target – $5000, Honolulu marathon.

I meet my team for the first time on a Sunday.  We start out easy, just three miles.  My usual.  The running group has a range of experience, some faster than me, some slower.  All supportive.  It’s a well paced schedule.  Short runs during the week, increasingly longer runs on the weekend.  4 months to make it happen.  OK.  A steady plan to follow.  I can do that.   Raising the money? Well that’s another story.

Asking for money has never been easy for me.  Those childhood school fundraising days for various sports team and girl scouts were torture.  But this is for such an important cause that impacts so many people, it must be easier to get donors.  Not to mention I work in the film industry now and actually KNOW people personally who have lots of money.  I got this.

Target list..  Friends.  Check.  Small increments of support.  Thank you pals.

Set up meetings with big money people.  Check.  Yea… you got this Indy. 

Walking into an equipment rental house to meet with the owner, I’m a little nervous.  Come on Indy.  The purpose speaks for itself.  The mission is important.  Focus on the mission.  Gonna score big here!

“Indy!  Hello.  How’s the tv show going?”

“Really good, thanks.  Appreciate all the help getting together what I needed.  I can always count on you guys.”

“Sure, sure.  Come.  Have a seat.  So what can I do for you?”

Pouring my heart out, I gain confidence in speaking about saving lives and helping to find a cure for something that affects so many.

“Yes, yes.  The only problem with all these programs, is you never know where the money goes.  It usually never gets to the people who need it.”

“No, actually, it’s documented and guaranteed that these percentages go to directly to support the families, and the rest goes to fund the research in this way.” I show him the breakdown. “It’s all laid out here.”

“I just don’t believe in this type of thing.  It’s a waste of money.  You can’t count on the money going to the people who need it.”

And with that I was encouraged to go on my way. 

Shit.  This is going to be harder than I thought.

I continued to struggle to get donations.  I didn’t get anything from the big money people I knew.  All the funds were raised in little amounts from a lot of people who only had a little amount.

But in the end.  It wasn’t enough.  I had been too ambitious.  Thinking I could raise that much money.

It was 4 days out from my race.  And I had not met the fundraising quota.  I was still over $300 away from the goal.  And I had exhausted every option I could think of.  I wasn’t going to make the minimum to participate.  I was beyond disappointed.

I had already asked for a couple days off work from the set of “Arrested Development.”  A truly hysterical show to work on.  The only job I’ve had that when the AD calls cut to complete the scene, the actors keep improvising and playing off each other, causing bursts of laughter from the crew.  Live comedy every day.  A dream job.

I was packing up my bag contemplating my options when I heard a very recognizable voice say, “I hear you’re raising money for Leukemia research.” 

As a camera technician hovering behind a monitor constantly tweaking knobs and cables, I don’t talk to actors much, so I was very surprised to look up and find Jason Bateman standing there.

Suddenly feeling really shy, I manage, “Uh, yea.  I’ve been trying to raise $5000.  I’m supposed to be running a marathon this weekend in Honolulu with my fundraising team.”

“Worthy cause.  Is it your first marathon?”

“Yea.  I’ve been training for over 4 months.  And have run up to 18 miles on the long days.  I know it’ll be hard but I just gotta dig in and make it those extra miles!” I offer up overly enthusiastic.

“Rumor on set is that you are still raising money.”

Totally embarrassed I spit out, “I’m still short over $300.”

Jason hands me a check he has already written.

“Have a good race Indy.”  And with that he left.  I looked down.  It was a check for $500.  He put me over the top.  I was going to Hawaii!  I was running a marathon in 4 days!

That was my one and only conversation with Jason Bateman.  But I couldn’t have asked for anything better…

The Honolulu marathon is a quirky event.  Ready for the humidity and trials on my body, I’m well prepared wearing light weight REI shorts and a sweat absorbing fast drying shirt.  But next to me are runners in full on head to toe costumes.  Pikachu! There was Tigger.  Bunny rabbits.   YES!  People were actually running 26 miles while completely covered in fur.  Well, I guess that’s something to aspire to…

But this time, it’s just about getting to the end and across that line.

I’m way back in the pack at the starting line.  The real runners are up front, ready to bolt out of the gate with speed racing for time and medals.  For the rest of us, we are crammed shoulder to shoulder. Thousands and thousands of hopefuls.

The start of the race is very slow.  Not much more than a walk.  Tied into the laces of my shoe is a chip that starts my individual timer when I finally get to and cross the starting line.  Here I go.  Racing against my own body, mind and spirit.

The scenery along the course is gorgeous.  Views of the ocean distract me from the growing ache in my legs.  Mentally I try to balance the intake and the outtake of fluids.  Should I stop at this station and drink water?

No.  I’ll keep going.  Stop at the next station…

The miles pass.  Good news.  I’m still going.

Along the route next to the water and Gatorade stations I start to see guys with buckets of goo lathering up people’s legs.  What is that? I grab some water.

The ache is bad. 

My run has given way to a fast waddle.  I still have over 6 miles to go.  How is it possible to keep going?

Intently I pause to look into the bucket full of the liquid grey matter.

“What is it?”

“Titanium lotion.  It helps soothe pain and fatigue.”

Well.  What the hell.  At this point, I’ll try anything that can help.

“OK.  Go for it.”

An unusual sensation strikes as the cool slippery substance smacks against my legs, and some unknown guy rubs it up and down, massaging it into my calfs and quads.  OK, yep, that’s a first.   

Will it ease my pain?  I really hope so…

“Thank you!” I spout, newly invigorated merging back into the thinning collection of runners.

A large furry panda bear passes me.  Cute.  But not helping.

Too soon, the titanium pick-me-up wears off.  I am struggling. 

The trees start to blur.  The people along the road melt away.  Thump.  Thump.  Each step hitting the ground echoes in my head. 

I’m not sure anymore how far I have to go.  I think I’m not thinking.  Just empty space.  The waddling is slowing.  My legs are stiffening.   I think.

Suddenly I hear a voice.  It’s really close.  Am I talking to myself?  Hello?  Delirium caresses me.  I’m not going to finish…

“How are you doing?  What’s your name?”

Wait.  Yes.  It’s a real person.  He’s not wearing a number.   Just trotting along with me, smiling.  Upbeat.

“You’ve come a really long way.  You’re almost there.”

I don’t have the strength to say anything.   My body aches.

“You are in the last mile.  You are about to come to a corner.  People will be cheering and celebrating with you. You got this.”

My eyes begin to gain focus.  I see the road in front of me.  I see the people lining the street.

“After the curve you’ll be in the final stretch, with the finish line ahead of you.”

I look over to the man running with me.  Who is he?  Where did he come from?  Why is he talking to me?

“You can make it.”

“My legs hurt.”  I finally say.

“You are OK.  You are almost there,” he says supportively.  “There’s a camera that takes a picture of every person that crosses the finish line.  Throw your arms in the air.   A lot of people don’t even remember the moment they finish.”

My vision clears.  There is a loud roar coming from the spectators.   Cheering, yelling out encouragement.  “Keep going!”  “You’re almost there!” “Go number 8987!”

8987 that’s me.  People are cheering for me. 

I look around.  The guy is gone.  I’m running alone again.  But fully present. 

I pick up the pace a bit.  Maybe I could actually call this running again.  Definitely a step beyond waddle!

I hit the curve.  Come around the corner.  See the finish line.  The stands full of people.  The balloons.  There’s music.  Cheering.  A symphony of sounds and sights. 

I don’t feel my legs anymore.  I’m carried by the crowd.  The sound of the stranger’s voice.  His words.

Floating across the finish line my arms fly in the air.  A moment I will never forget.

The gesture of that stranger still brings tears to my eyes.  I’ll never know who he was, or why he ran out of the crowd for me, but it was a gift that I will always remember and cherish.