Some of our posts are written about our ministry and some are written because we want to remember the day. This is about a day I want to remember.
Ben and I with other Missionaries Runners
In the fall I started running. I'm not a runner. I don't enjoy it. BUT I wanted to get in shape and it seemed the best option. I started using an app "Couch to 5k." After about 8 weeks, I was running 5k (3.1 miles) three times a week. With the new year, I started working on increasing my distance and got to the point of running about 3.8 miles, three times each week. Using a app, I have been able to record my runs and see the progress. It is amazing how the body improves, encouraging as well.
At Easter, I remembered the Maratón de la Montaña. Calling a friend, I asked if there were different lengths and found out that the race was about 7.5 miles long. I hadn't run that far for about 30 years. It was twice the distance of what I regularly ran. I wondered if I could do it. My friend Vic encouraged me saying that lots of people run/walk and that he didn't feel I should have a problem. So I decided to go for it.
What I didn't know at the time was that this would be much more than a race. It would be a cultural event. As we waited for the race to start, it was a party atmosphere. Dominicans love to laugh and people were just having a good time. Eventually the organizers started moving people to the starting line and there we stood for about 40 minutes, listening to speeches from different leaders in the community. This happens often and I should have known this wouldn't be any different.
Eventually the race started. On the advice of others, I started at a slow pace. We climbed some hills, passed Pizza Pepperoni, and started to head out of town. Very quickly we were off of the pavement and running on dirt/gravel roads. This is when it started to get hard. The dust flew as motorcycles passed. Some on motorcycles were offering rides and while I didn't see anyone hop on, I have been told it happens. We made our way through La Joya and I was needing water. Just at this time, one of my friends, a local youth passed me on his moto. He had a bag of water bottles and was helping people he knew. He gave me water and helped me throughout the race.
Making the final turn to the finish line!
I passed the cemetery and then we made the turn toward Palo Blanco. I had been warned about Palo Blanco, and the warnings were confirmed. For the next 3 miles, the road was lined with groups of people waiting with jugs of water ready to douse any runner. By this time the runners had spread out and I was pretty much alone. I could see Vanessa, a friend and Dominican missionary, running with a friend a little ways ahead of me. I watched as time and time again the crowds would let them pass only to unload every drop on me. I was drenched.
I suppose if I were a serious runner, it may have been frustrating. But for me, one who was just trying to do finish a race, it was a little bit entertaining and a good distraction, getting my mind off of having to take one more step. Some of the kids were a little timid. They had the water and were ready but then at the last moment I could tell they hesitated. Some adults were very kind and asked if I wanted to be hit with water. But the ones I tried to avoid were the middle school and high school boys. They were on a mission and had 5 gallon buckets waiting. They seem especially excited to soak me, the American. Some had squirt guns and they ran with me for a block or so, squirting me and laughing the whole way. I do have to say, I enjoyed seeing them have so much fun. There were plenty of laughs when I got hit or when I successfully side-stepped an attack. Very quickly, I was so soaked that another can of water just didn't matter.
The last part of the race was a little challenging as there were more cars and motorcycles to avoid. Eventually I found myself at the finish line. I had done it! Not only had I run 7.5 miles but I had also survived Palo Blanca's Water Gauntlet!
