Push Through the Pain Cave (Post 6)
If you are a runner, you know EXACTLY what the pain cave is. Most likely you winced when you read the title. If you are not a runner, you know what the pain cave is but don’t realize it. Let me explain. For a runner, the pain cave is where you go when the wheels are coming off. Its mile 20 of a marathon when with each step, your body starts to shutdown and cramp and refuse to move forward. Everything hurts so bad that all you want to do is stop. All of that pain, the cramping, and the blisters, it’s your body’s defense mechanism against hurting itself permanently, and as a marathon runner, you have to push through that. Being in the cave is dangerous, because that’s where it’s easy to decide to quit. You lose all perspective.
For you non-runners, does this sound familiar? Instead of running, think about some of the most difficult experiences in your life. It’s kind of like the pain cave huh? You sink within yourself and lose perspective. You don’t know if you can go on. You might quit… on life.
Well, I am going to share an amazing story with you. This is very often how I pull myself out of the pain cave and keep going. Because when I think about Chris, and the fact that he lives with pain everyday, I realize that I can put one foot in front of the other. I know when I finish my race, I can put down my pain, and he can’t. He has to carry it with him. He hits the “wall” every day.
Chris Stoll is my brother-in-law. My brother. On July 7th, 2013, he lost control of his motorcycle and during the process Chris told me, “Something caught my helmet and ripped it off my head which caused my head to pop off of my spinal cord. My spinal cord was damaged by stretching, it didn’t break, which is why I am a C1/C2 incomplete.” Basically he had what is called an internal decapitation. I’d encourage you to Google it for more of the medical details. The doctors gave him a 20% chance to make it through the night.
Chris continues “While I was in the hospital they told me I would never walk again. I knew I could move my left big toe, so I just kept moving it non-stop. Well, after about three days, I could move my whole left foot. Then it was on!” From that day until Chris took his first step was a grueling seven weeks. He had to learn how to walk again. “It hurt so bad, but I went into rehab the sixth week and told myself I was going to walk again or die trying. I knew my life had changed and I knew it all depended on my attitude. I was determined to give it all that I had so I wouldn’t look back and wonder “What if.””
Miracles do happen. It’s a miracle that Chris is alive. Not only that, Chris is able to walk! Scratch that, Chris is able to grill! He’s in pain everyday, and it limits his ability to work in the job that he had before the accident, but he has reinvented himself. “My BBQ gives me a purpose. When I see people eat my BBQ and smile and tell me how good it is. Priceless. People only see the final product; they don’t see that it takes me days to do one meal. I go to the store to buy the meat and I’m done for the day. Then another day to prep. Another to cook. It beats me up pretty good but it gives me a purpose.”
When I have tunnel vision, and I’m deep in that pain cave, I start telling myself, “If Chris can take three days to move his foot, I can move mine right now. Don’t quit. Walk again, or die trying.” Thank you Chris for being an example of how to overcome adversity and keep putting one foot in front of the other.
If you want to see some world class BBQ, check out Chris on Instagram: plazoo_bbq
Be warned, you will get hungry!
Follow me on Instagram: joe_the_runner
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What Does a Beast Look Like? (Post 5)
“He who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man.” Samuel Johnson
Running brother Dave, wait for it…, from England, and I were about 9 miles in to the 28 mile Florence Urban Trail run, when we happened upon an older gentleman runner who was plugging along. He had a little hitch in his stride, like he was compensating for some long healed injury that now caused this slight flaw in his gate. But his legs were solid. I’m talking like zero fat, bridge stanchion looking legs. You could tell that this man had put in some miles during his years and that back in his day; he could put it on you if he needed to. Alas, nothing lasts forever.
Running Brother Dave and I passed him with a pat on the back and two big smiles. I mean this guy was awesome and we both felt like he could use a pat on the back, after all we still had 19 miles to go and we hadn’t even hit the mountain yet. At this point our conversation kind of went like this. Me “Dude, that guy is bad ass, out here on a Sunday running 28 miles at his age when most of his friends are probably sitting around reading the newspaper.” RBD “Yeah fella, I hope that we’re still out here when we hit his age. I hope he finishes.” Me “Me too.” End of story right? Not quite.
Fast forward a couple of hours and about 10 more miles into the race, we’re starting the downhill and feeling pretty good about ourselves, and suddenly running brother Dave hears me say “What the hell? No way!”, and before he can even ask what I’m talking about, that older gentleman with the hitch in his stride, slides right past us. Like the tag line on my website says,” You Are Capable of More Than You Think”, you betcha ya! Roger that! But let’s be real, we’re not going to let this guy beat us to the finish.
To say that Running Brother Dave and I are competitive is like saying there are “a few” plot twists in Game of Thrones. We are. It’s stupid, neither one of us will ever threaten a podium, but we still have our pride. So… we picked up the pace. Sure enough, within a half of mile, we passed our competition and the universe was back in its natural order. Now the conversation is going something like this. Me “The beers are gonna be GLORIOUS! (Sing that last word out for effect). Let’s hammer out these last miles and then hammer down some beers!” RBD “That’s why we run fella, so we can drink!”
Apparently our nemesis didn’t get the memo. This was done; we were running the last 5 miles as a victory lap! He slides by once again. WTF? Naturally we pick up the pace and pass him again at the last aid station. This time, we put some distance between us and him just for good measure, using some valuable fuel in what was an already dangerously low tank. Now Running Brother Dave and I are focused, there is no conversation at this point, just about 3 miles to glory!
Did you ever watch those old horror movies? Like Halloween or Friday the 13th. You know how they have that suspenseful music going that’s all bass: bum… bum bum… bum… bum bum. I was hearing that in my head. And just like the movies, even though the crazy killer was shot, stabbed, thrown out a window, hit by a bus, and whatever else is supposed to kill someone, our friend was back. This time when he passed, his gate didn’t seem to have as pronounced a hitch, and he actually seemed to be picking up the pace a little. What the hell was he doing? He was finishing, that’s what. And we had no answer. Just like those stupid teenagers that go down in to the basement because they heard a noise, “No electricity, no problem!” We were dead!
We crossed the finished line and did the obligatory man hug accomplishing what we set out to do. We finished our first Ultra. After all of the hugs and kisses from our families waiting at the finish line, we bumped in to Graziano. That is his name; Graziano Guerrieri. Both Dave and I paid our respects to this great man, and humbly asked for a picture with him to which he graciously agreed. THIS is what a beast looks like.
And remember, the next time that you pass someone that’s older then you, with a little hitch in their stride, pat them on the back and be kind, because they will probably kick your ass and you’ll want a picture!
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