Ed: Reflecting on a transformation

Tonight, I'm in a reflective mood.


Just over a year ago St. Jude Children's Research Hospital was not even something I thought about, much less had an appreciation for. Frankly, I think that when my wife first started talking about participating in the run from Champaign to Peoria, all I heard (at least that's how my brain processed it) was that she had a really long run ahead of her. I was proud of her for training to run the relay all the way there...but that was about it.


I also had no idea of the scale of the run to Peoria. I just assumed that it was a bunch of nice folks from Champaign who would drum up some coin for some sort of hospital that did some good things for children--and present a check for a couple grand if all went well.


I was also thinking they should have simply held a nice bake sale and called it a day--and saved the agony of making that run.


But, Kathleen was determined. She would run. I would remain behind with our then three-year old, and drive to Peoria the next day to cheer her arrival. I figured I'd see the 47 runners take off for Peoria Friday night, then cheer the arrival of 47 runners (minus any drop outs) when they showed up where ever they were going to be. We'd have a nice dinner with the in-laws, and drive home. I was dimly aware that Kathleen mentioned some sort of ceremony, but how long could that take with 47 people?


My first surprise was the start of the event in Champaign. There were the runners, for sure, but the number of supporters there was a surprise. So were the support vehicles, RVs, and the State Trooper for an escort.


This was not just some folks going out for a jog.


It took a bit to corral everybody together, but once some nice words were said, a group prayer done...off they went with encouraging music blaring from the chase (not exactly an accurate description...maybe drive-from-behind-at-a-jog) van.


Holding our three-year old and watching this gaggle of runners fade away (along with the rocking music), I found my eyes welling with tears of pride as I watched my wife, her companions, RVs, van, and the festive lights (they're festive as long as they aren't in your mirror) of the trooper's squad car disappear down the road.


This was not what I had in mind.


The next day I bundled our toddler and stuff into the car and headed off to Peoria to greet the arrival of the Champaign runners in Peoria. It takes almost 24 hours for the relay to finish the 109 mile run, so it would be late in the afternoon. For me and our toddler it was a comfortable one hour forty minute drive.


My next surprise was driving to the appointed pick up area. I couldn't get there. Barricades were all over the place. Police were everywhere to block traffic and redirect. The local TV stations were all set up with mushroom-like antennas festooning their vans.


For 47 runners? The lightbulb started to brighten a tad. This REALLY was not what I was expecting.


When I finally found some parking and met up with other family members (Kathleen's family is conveniently from Peoria), there were probably well over a thousand people milling around, waiting the runners. By now, I figured out there were more than 47 tired folks inbound from Champaign.


Then it happened.


The first wave of runners (Chillicothe?) came around the corner with their music blaring from a car painted to look like the Blues' Brothers car. These happy folks were running and dancing to the music...people were cheering them on. I got caught up in the festivities and started clapping and cheering them on too!

More waves of runners showed up from all around the area. Kathleen's group were mustered on the other side of the Bob Michael Bridge (it's soaring, curving height looked more like an impediment to runners rather than a conveyance over the river). With the magic of texting, I was soon aware that Kathleen's group was next over the bridge.


Then we saw them way off in the distance as they crested the bridge.


The same gaggle of runners last seen in Champaign were leading the pack of RVs with the rockin' music blaring. It was not lost on me that while I slept comfortably these folks had been running through the night. Running through the heat while I drove in my air conditioned car. Pushing through fatigue. Pushing through the pain.


They made it.


I was never more filled with pride as I saw Kathleen in the crowd. She had trained so hard to be part of this. She had accomplished her goal! She picked me out of the greeting line and raised her hands in joy. Our little one got excited as she saw her mother approach. When the runners finally reached where we were standing, Kathleen swung by and gave our three-year old what was probably a world-class sweaty kiss, and she was gone with the rest of the runners to cross the nearby finish line.


There was not a dry eye anywhere.


The arrival of the remaining runners took a while. I learned that the honor of finishing the process were the runners who took three days to run from Memphis to Peoria (Memphis!?). The Memphis-to-Peoria run was the first to start this fund raising event in 1982. All the other runs are simply off-shoots of this event.


We finally found Kathleen in a large parking lot for our happy reunion. She was, as were all the runners, sweaty, tired, but elated.


A few hours later, we attended a fundraiser finale dinner at a local convention center. Waves and waves of now-dried and somewhat rested runners entered to thunderous applause. In another area of the center, a telethon was underway to collect donations for St. Jude. Stories of how St. Jude saved lives were highlighted throughout the night. The whole evening had me slack-jawed as the full import of the event finally became clear to me. I believe that night over two million dollars were raised by the runners alone.


This is a big deal. That would have been some bake sale.


All these runners who had given so much of their energy and bodies simply did not join some group of runners like a scene in Forrest Gump. These folks had to request donations and acquire a minimum amount for the honor of running. And make no mistake...it is an honor to run and be part of this.


I left that night swearing that I would participate the following year with my wife. I'd get this 56-year old body in good enough shape to run the relay. It's been a struggle, but I'm almost there with less than three weeks to go.


Thanks to all of you for donating to our run. Kathleen and I are closing in on two thousand dollars--and have earned the honor of participating in the 2011 St. Jude run.


I'm looking forward to crossing that final bridge. I'll be the tired sweaty one, probably with tears, crossing the finish line in Peoria--but you won't notice me...everyone will look like that.


See you at the finish line?


Today's video is appropriately something from last year's Champaign-to-Peoria run.