My virtual first marathon: homemade water stations and a homemade finish line

In the new year of 2021, I began training for a marathon. Although I had been running for about 15 years, I had never even once considered making a marathon a goal. Whenever I came to the finish line of a half, I knew without a doubt that I would never ever be able, or want, to run another 21.1 km on top of what I had already run. That was a feat too extraordinary to even contemplate.

But 2021 dawned with all of us still in lockdown, the second wave of covid wreaking havoc on our lives. I was feeling pretty bruised in my professional life at this time, as many of us in helping professions were, while trying to adapt our person-to-person offerings to virtual platforms. The first half of 2021 was mostly spent under stay-at-home orders, although we were allowed to go out for exercise.

So I made a plan to run. I consulted with my family, took a deep breath, and pressed the registration button for the virtual Saskatchewan marathon. At the end of May, my race bib, t- shirt and finisher’s medal arrived in the mail. I set June 19 as race day.

The first 10 minutes of running are the worst (for everyone)

Although I love running alone, I don’t really ever run by myself. My running friends helped me with training, stretching and nutrition plans for the months ahead. They checked in with me throughout to encourage and motivate and advise. My non-running friends did too. My marathon goal became a goal that my circle of friends and family invested in too.

Training got real

The training was intense, which seems like an obvious statement. About two-thirds of the way through, when all I seemed to be doing was running and recovering from running, it felt impossibly hard. On my 34 km distance run, my mind went to some dark and fretful places. I clocked the 17 km mark, and realizing I was only halfway through, nearly gave up. When I finally stumbled home at the end, I agonized about how I could possibly add on another 8 km beyond that to attain the required distance on race day.

It was around this time that a number of people started reaching out to me to ask if they could help on race day. Julie and Janine and Britt offered to run part of the way with me. Tom and his daughter Ivy wanted to have some music playing at the finish line. John and Ann and Beth realized that I would need water stations along the way, and Ann took it upon herself to organize and staff these for me. Paul and Sue committed to being at every water station from 5:30 a.m. onward, and in between water stations, to circle by my route in order to cheer me on along the way and photograph this momentous event.

June 19 was a hot, humid day. The forecast had promised rain, and instead, the sun came out after an overnight thunderstorm, creating circumstances that felt a lot like a steam bath. I had planned my hydration and fuelling needs carefully, but my plan fell short of the actual needs of the day. When I got to the last water station, with seven kilometers left to go, I realized that I didn’t have enough fluid to address my wild, sweaty thirst.

Join the Stand with Ukraine virtual running challenge

Getting through the day (with a little help from my friends)

Paul grabbed an extra water bottle from his car and gave me that to top myself up.

Brian had come to the last station on his bike, feeling that it might be a good idea if he cycled behind me for the last leg. When he had suggested it the day before, it had sounded unnecessary, but Brian’s ideas are usually good ones, so I said yes. Again I ran out of water, and this time it was Brian to save the day, refilling my water bottle from his own. He also passed me a few energy chews, which gave me the added boost I needed to knock out the last few kilometers. When I was rounding the corner into my neighbourhood and the promised finish line, Brian cycled ahead to tell everyone I was on my way. About 20 masked friends and family cheered me across a ribbon finish line held by my Mom and the kids. Ivy had “This Girl is On Fire” pumping over a little karaoke machine. John placed a laurel wreath on my head. My son Gordon went to fetch me a big icy-cold glass of restorative chocolate milk.

I know how privileged I am to have people like that show up for me. And also, that marathon finish line is exactly an image of what human community can be and should be—on or off the race course.

We don’t run alone, we actually can’t run alone.

We can fill in the gaps for one another, and we must fill in the gaps for one another.

We are capable of figuring out a makeshift finish line and homemade water stations when all of the rest of the world has been overturned.

Our small bits of dedication and training don’t add up to a whole lot on our own, but together we can get somewhere.

My next marathon

This year, I signed up for my first in-person marathon—Ottawa in May. I am both excited and nervous to run in a crowd. I long for the energy of racing events that seem now such a distant memory. I wonder what it will be like with strangers instead of my personalized team of care.

I imagine that whatever training and races lie in my future, I won’t ever cross another finish line without carrying those homemade water stations with me, too.

Martha Tatarnic is an Anglican priest in St. Catharines, Ont., with running playing a huge part in how she keeps her life in balance. Her second book, Why Gather? will be published in June 2022 and is chock full of running metaphors for making sense of the world.