Sunday, 17 June 2007


Today the locals celebrated the 40th anniversary of the Traralgon Marathon, the longest running in the whole of Australia. I decided to support it, however not through participation! My Dad and younger brother Matt were to run the full 42.195kms, and at 43 and 18 they were competing in their first marathon both on little training. My Dad (after missing the start) ran 4:10:51 and my brother 4:18:51, a long way from the world record of 2:04:55! But with an ETA of 5hours they were well ahead of schedule which had my Dad leaving my brother behind with 7kms to go! I was so proud of the both of them. After having ran a marathon at 14 years of age I could appreciate their efforts.

A marathon starts out as a ritual before your body goes into shock, followed by denial and isolation. Eating becomes a chore and as the pain increases, generally so does the walking. Blisters and swelling have you in tears at the thought of finishing the challenge that lies ahead. You near the finish and elation sets in, then finally renewal. As you round the final corner and see the finish line you pull yourself up straight and try not to limp. You hide the blood stains on your shirt and wipe the stale spit from your face. You’ll cross the finish line looking like a runner and not just any runner…a marathoner! Grateful that someone is there to place the finishers medallion around your neck as you don’t possess the energy to do it yourself, you fall into the arms of your loved ones and begin to plan your training for the next one! Then you return home to receive massages from your daughter/sister. Or so I was told...