The Sarah Jones Story

Back by popular demand....Okay, so there was no demanding, but it's a fun story to tell and it helps inspire in the achieving of my marathon goal.

I am still not quite sure why I decided to join the cross country team at Mickey Cox Elementary. I loathed P.E. and loathed even more the running we had to do around the perimeter of what seemed to be then an endless field. My little friend that in retrospect kind of bullied me into a lot of things was very athletic and decided this was something I needed to do with her. So there I was, an average fourth grader with a little baby fat still clinging to my bones, fearing the inevitable humiliation of not measuring up in these physical competitions....as usual. I ran, I hated it, but I ran. In every competition. Came in last. In every meet. My face would be red, a few standerbys cheered me on regardless of the rest of the runners having finished long before. I recall DeeDee once standing outside the snack bar where she was helping and encouraging me but consoling me in the fact that I didn't have to finish this time.

On a number of occasions I was determined to quit. My determination was always short lived as the coach would catch wind and pull me into his office. We would look over my times and through a combination of a lack of backbone, wanting to please my elders and his convincing me that I was getting better, I remained on the team. For three years. That meant actively joining it or agreeing to race every spring. It was hot, miserable, and embarrassing, but I kept at it. Sometimes I think more out of not wanting to deal with the consequences of giving up more than anything else. I preferred to go on in my misery undetected rather than be sought out in an effort to keep me going. Over time, I think there were a few races that I came in second to last, and that was a nice change.

I enjoyed the feeling of inclusion as I stretched on the field with the rest of the team and we held practices. I was shy, but generally didn't care what others thought of me. Some of the girls poked fun at my attempts of originality in my dress, or my physical shortcomings, and it burned, but I was overall comfortable with who I was. My teachers loved me, because I was respectful and enjoyed class. I was effortlessly smart in most subjects, those were the days. And even overcame my timid nature for long enough to run as student body secretary, and won. It amazes me that I had the guts to walk on stage in front of the whole school with the Indiana Jones theme music playing in the background, cracking a home made whip and wearing Dad's Indiana Jones hat.

I survived Elementary School, survived cross country, and moved on the joys of Junior High, leaving all that behind me and facing altogether new and delightful challenges. Or so I thought.

One afternoon, my younger sister Christina, who was in third or fourth grade at the time, came home with news of my name being mentioned by Principal Hindergardt in their assembly that day. Encouraging the students to try out for the athletic programs, he relayed the inspirational story of the Mickey Cox Alumni, Sarah Jones.

Sarah had been a member of the cross country team for three years, and struggled with it immensely. Sarah always came in last, but always finished the race. It makes me wonder what sort of inspiration it instilled upon the students. Yes I always finished, but I was still last, that never really changed. I just stuck with it and never got much better. Kind of discouraging if you ask me. Well, Principal Hindergardt liked it enough to continue using it over the years. I never joined another athletic team in my adolescent education but have learned to appreciate the school district and there interest in the the children's extra-curricular activities. Helping us expand our horizons and explore new possible talents.

I still hated running the mile in Junior High, in High School, but not quite as much as I abhorred the team sports, where if I failed, I let someone else down. Or all eyes would be on me as I was at bat. It wasn't until I was nearing adulthood that I felt the need to live up to my supposed inspirational status. I began running in 15 minute intervals (hating it) and did so for my health, vanity, among other reasons. Then, one night of frustration, over unrelated things, probably induced by hormones, depression, or a mentsrual visit, I walked out of the house and started running. And I kept on going. The rhythm and exertion felt so good, I didn't want it to stop. I finally did, and felt better. Left for work and a lot of stress the next day, came home and started running again. Mornings soon began at 5:00 and a two mile run, followed by evenings of the same. I couldn't get enough. And one day it dawned on me what I had accomplished. I hadn't really lost any weight, which always seems to be the constant motivation, but I felt good. I had energy, and felt good about myself.

When I entered the Missionary Training Center, we spent days sitting in classrooms and at first, our forty five minutes of gym time every other day hardly seemed enough to really get the same workout as before. I got lazy, and used this time studying instead. Until. I got frustrated with Spanish, and my companion not talking at all due to her bashful nature, trying to help her to no avail, and being stir crazy in this little penitentiary. I started running again. A mile at first, which soon turned into three, and then how ever many I could squeeze into the allotted time. My district found out about my days as an inspirational runner at Mickey Cox due to my unexplained need to reveal personal information to those who really don't need to know. I ran along the track lined with weight machines and as I passed, the elder's would retort "she kept running, and running, and she never gave up".

So here I am again barely able to run a mile, but with the knowledge that if I start now, my speed and distance will increase in due time. It is about time that I run in my aspired marathon, and in a sense, complete what I started. Not that it has to end here.

So wish me luck, April 26th I believe it is, and if you want, come join me! A 5k isn't that much, and even if I walk a portion of the way, I will have done it all the same.