Reflections of a SpEd Teacher: Parallels between running marathons and education

This year was my third year participating in the Marine Corps Marathon held in Arlington, Virginia. Many marathoners I know run because they love the thrill and challenge of the race. Others see it as a social experience. I run this marathon as a tribute and memory to a friend and it is the only reason I run it. I am not the typical lean and fit marathoner but I do have the physical and mental tools needed to finish the race. This year I finished the race in a grueling 6 hours and 13 minutes.

This year was the most grueling experience of the three races to date. I was in better shape for the first two races, mainly due to more free time to train that wasn't available to me this year. Every year I train my bum off so when I get to race day I have it etched into my brain that only I can finish the race; no one is going to throw me over their shoulder and finish it for me. And every year I am proven wrong. While my little legs do the chugging and my brain keeps screaming "I think I can, I think I can"; usually around mile 18-20 I run out of gas and begin a physical and mental freefall. This is where my sister jumps in and pushes me forward with her consistent support. This year I was lucky enough to have both my sister and girlfriend cheering me on.

This year, unlike previous years, was the most grueling and painful run of my annual marathons. I started the race with some hesitation and self-doubt and not in the best running shape. I started the race well and by mile 13 was on track to finish the race in 5h 30m but then things started going downhill. Between mile 14 and 18 the lactic acid had built up; stiffening my legs and making it nearly impossible to run. By mile 19 I was a broken man. I could no longer run and when I tried, my body punished me with excruciating cramps. Here I was at mile 19 a physically and
mentally broken man.

All I could think about was exiting the race and going home. I came to remember a friend and by coming to this point I had accomplished that goal. No one would look down at me for leaving, I thought. What was worse was that I had to Beat the Bridge by 1pm or risk being turned back and not finish the race anyway. If I just gave up and walked away, I could get a headstart back home and beat traffic. But if I stayed in the race there was a big chance I wouldn't Beat the Bridge and still be turned back and not finish the race. Not finishing the race was a strong possibility and I had to decide whether to throw in the towel and go home with my tail in my legs or barrel forward and still face the chance of going home but with my head held high. I was leaning toward going home with my tail between my legs...until I met Sherine and Linda.

My baby sister Sherine has been right there beside me for these marathons ever since I started running three years ago. She has done more for me than all the Powerade I drink during the race. This year I had an entire team cheering for me: my sister Sherine, my girlfriend Linda, and her sister Chia Hui. As I was contemplating throwing in the towel around the 18 mile marker, my sister and my girlfriend were waiting for me between the 19 and 20 mile marker. Right before I met up with them I had decided I was going to throw in the towel but something happened when I saw them that changed everything.

I stopped to hug my little sister and chat with my pit crew. I began to prepare them for the eventuality that I may not finish and they were OK with it. My moans and groans were met with encouragement and support. "Do your best" and "We're here" was the common refrain. I don't know why but I had expected an adverse reaction like "Quit your whining" or "Suck it up and be a man" but instead I was met with quiet comfort. This changed the game. I wasn't going to stop and walk away. If I wasn't going to finish, it would be in one of two ways: on a stretcher (from exhaustion) or being turned back for not Beating the Bridge.

Beating the Bridge was a crucial moment for me. If I could get to this point I could relax my pace and complete the rest of the race at my own time. But Beating the Bridge wasn't an easy task. I could no longer run, was fatigued and prone to excruciating cramps. I only had thirty minutes to cover two miles and Beat the Bridge. While covering two miles in thirty minutes may sound like an easy task, it's not when you're limited to speed walking and undergoing the physical effects mentioned earlier. The only thing that kept me moving forward was thinking about my sister and Linda. They came out for me and I was going to give them their money's worth. I Beat the Bridge with minutes to spare--seven to be exact.

From mile 17 onwards, I couldn't help but compare myself to one of my special needs students. I felt slow, inept, and inadequate and this is how my students--and many special needs students--feel all the time. For many special need students in public schools--especially in urban areas--their academic differences are met by indifference, misunderstanding, and disdain. My belief is even that the most hardened child can be affected given a stable environment as well as the proper supports. For myself, the emotional support and stability of my sister and girlfriend's presence was an enormous motivation.

At mile 19 I was in pain and suffering from mental and physical exhaustion but had a coterie of stability and support that helped carry me through. Though it was easier for my sister and Linda to let me throw in the towel and get home early they chose a different path. They continued to be by my side throughout the race, until I was ready to stop. Their quiet encouragement and reassuring embraces was invigorating. It changed my way of thinking from throwing in the towel to finishing the race to the best of my ability. And I did.

As a special needs educator, it's important for me to be that same anchor of stability, support and encouragement for my kids. Though it's easier to yell from the sidelines to "Suck it up" and "Stop whining", the reality of learning for special needs students shares intersting parallels to running a marathon. I hope other educators can reflect on my experience or one of their own and draw similar parallels.

P.S.
A special thank you to my 33rd MCM pit crew: my baby sister Sherine, my darling Linda, and my little Hui.