Oh, What a Beautiful...

Vikki is in the last 30 days of training for her second successive Chicago Marathon on Sunday, October 7.  She is chronicling those last days by reflecting on the music playlist she has compiled to encourage her while she runs which we call Chicago Marathon ( VikkiThon) on our YouTube Channel .  ​​

The banks of the Fox River, North Aurora, IL, 5:31 AM, September 16, 2018

 It was a Francis Scott Key kind of morning:  "Oh, say...by the dawn's early light?"

This particular Sunday was not just another long-distance training day.  
They had spent Saturday mapping out the plan for Sunday; a more intricate collaboration than had occurred in previous planning sessions.  There's something to be said for Experience being a teacher.

Their phone call was about an hour, going over and again the start time, the drive time, the water stops, the energy shots, the traffic flow. 

Distance had its own importance.  Vikki had not completed any of her previous double-digit goals.  Today's 16-mile run was admirable; however, she was struggling, lamenting that it should be 20.  Twenty is the optimum number of miles a marathon runner should run in a training session before race day, and three, the optimum number of weeks that 20 should be run.  Twenty miles were what Jules ran on the same day three years ago when she was getting ready for the Chicago Marathon .  That same day, Vikki ran her first 26.2-miler.   The Fox Valley Marathon.  Today was the third anniversary of that sub-five-hour hoof. 

Vikki stretches in the open lot at 5:30 AM after a short night.

Preparing to greet Coach Jules (no the car didn't hit the tree).

Flashback...

Jules & Vikki: Marathon Sisters

The Vikki-Jules running partnership began that year, 2015, in the midst of recoiling from personal and professional setbacks.  Starting Fox Valley that Sunday was a family triumph, coming as it did at the end of three successive years when Vikki buried her father, her mother and a sister;  and lost  her job of over a decade.   It was on that job that Vikki met Jules, hiring her as a  freelance  producer for video projects Vikki coordinated at the corporation. 

When Vikki was laid off because of budget cuts, Jules -- a passionate marathoner -- returned the employment favor.  She hired Vikki as field producer for a documentary Jules was producing on marathon runners. Interviewing the runners as they finished, Vikki resonated with repeated comments about the spiritual nature of running.  Coupled with her own Scripture studies and dormant competitive streak, it didn't take much of Jules' prodding (ok, encouragement) , for Vikki to begin training for a half-marathon (13.1 miles).  Why stop there, said the Prodding Producer.  Run the full monty.  Besides, without the 9-to-5, there was plenty of time to train, running along the south bank of the Fox River where the marathon would be held, during the week. 

Because his staff position at church had flexible hours, for fun Michael could come for support which generally came in the form of popping up in planned and unexpected places on the course anywhere between downtown St. Charles, IL, and Interstate 88.  The route on the shores of the Fox River was awash with artistic parks, fishing posts and running trails.  There were also a few wooded areas that seemed to have been considered locations for "Deliverance." These backlots not only tweaked Michael's photo safari instincts, they also tapped his latent caveman protector radar.  He saw things, and people, on the trail, Vikki did not.  Would not.  That's all right, he thought, you just run.  I'll watch.  Thus, the camera lens through which he viewed his wife in the race surroundings was not just peculiar paparazzism.  

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Training for Fox Valley was as cathartic as was it was grueling.   There was triumph in the midst of losses.  Countering the loss of life was the loss of weight.  Michael and Vikki each lost over 50 pounds during their marathon dates -- a combination of regular running and Weightwatchers meetings.  Race day was a family affair, as all residents of the Myers household and some friends scattered around the course, shouting "hurrahs" and "hosannas!" Hosanna means, "The Lord Saves," which was definitely the case for Vikki the last three miles when -- in marathon lingo -- the runners hit the wall.

Those last three miles toward the finish were Vikki's most grueling.  

When the family last saw her at mile 22, Vikki waved.  When they saw her again, she was wavering.  Running, she wasn't sure if she'd make it to the finish line.  Waiting at the line, her posse wavered, too.  Michael, knowing she was woefully behind her pace,  went "There" -- that place they always so don't go: she's pulled up lame, or is crumpled in the woods.   Those prayers he intoned, circled with Vikki and Jules before each training session, were improvised and singular.  "Lord, just let her finish," he muttered.  The cry was soon answered.   

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​LEARN MORE:  ​Donate to Vikki's run for St. Jude's Children's Hospital.

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Though she had finished much earlier -- having run her 20 miles in preparation for HER Chicago Marathon in a few weeks -- Jules ran back on to the course a couple of miles.  No one is sure if she donned a cape, for there are no phone booths in downtown St. Charles, but when Jules was seen again, she was flying across the finish line again, this time with Vikki in tow (or toe), having run with and encouraging Vikki in word and deed across the finish line.  This collective triumph was cemented not only by Vikki finishing, and finishing under five hours, but also by Jules giving the medal she'd received, gift-wrapped, to Michael at their celebration dinner later that night.

It was Jules, knowing the affect of cancer on Vikki's family, as it had touched hers, who introduced Vikki to the face that by running the Chicago Marathon she could raise support for St. Jude's Children's Research Hospital, as she herself was doing, so that the 26.2 miles had a deeper purpose.

And so, when Jules gives instructions, Michael and Vikki listen.

Vikki crosses the finish line, Fox Valley Marathon 2015, in 4:56 (Photo: CamiMyersPhotography)

Meanwhile, this morning...

The fact that the same race was occurring on the same day as this training run was further complicated by the fact that neither Jules nor Vikki was competing in Fox Valley, but had chosen the same course to train.  They  had to finish before the bulk of the runners got going on the same course.  Thus, Saturday's pow-wow.  Jules, the master producer as well as track coach, made a point of texting that the success of their day hinged on being SHARP to their 5:30 AM rendezvous.  Any variation could create a logistical logjam, potentially tripping over hordes of runners from the opposite direction; or worse, getting caught up in a swarm and off course. A "Rawhide" without ramrod Clint Eastwood.  There could be something worse than encountering actual marathon runners, however. 

As Vikki repeatedly reminded Michael throughout training, time didn't just mean the distance run.  There was the mindset to be dealt with.  Her repetition of the emotional element channeled baseball Hall of Famer Yogi Berra, the poet laureate of malaprops whose observations include., "Baseball is 90 percent mental.  The other half is physical."  On days like this, Yogi was Yoda as orated by James Earl Jones. Or in their case, Jules.  In short, tardiness would create a more detrimental mental drain for the Type-A and A-minus women before they got out of their cars. 

And so, Saturday Jules followed her text with a three-way phone call.  Vikki and Michael had their responsibilities.  Vikki running 16.  Jules running 11.  Michael driving to rendezvous points on the trail, hoping to navigate roads blocked off for the marathon.  

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 Saturday ended at 9:30 for Vikki.  Mike pushed the envelope until Sunday, 12:30 AM, to meet a deadline.  Church was not on the docket. but early communion with God was.  The wakeup call was 4:30.  Departure was set for 5:30.  Vikki pulled out of the lot at 5:40, in stony simmering spousal silence -- the silent count to ten; enacting James' "be slow to speak" as Michael set his hot coffee cup on the dashboard, to both buckle in and to gauge the temperature, outside inside the car. 

They were not LATE, they were just behind, he wanted to say; but didn't.  Plus, she'd just gone out herself, to start the car, to drive, because driving gave her the reassurance of control.  Seeing as how the day could go, Vikki needed to start the day in control.  Besides, it was enough that he was in the car before The Tardiness Window closed.  Both were confident the drive wouldn't take as long as it could.  Especially since Vikki was already behind the wheel.  They'd still be on time, depending on which way they went.  It was not a time of debate about directions.

(There was that little thing about whether to take the interstate all the way even though that road without lights took them three miles father south before swinging back north; OR, should they take the take a fast local which was more direct to the destination, and had almost interstate speeds...but how may traffic lights?  Michael played Kenny Rogers, knowing when to fold his lips, letting Vikki brainstorm the route on which she felt most comfortable ("in control?").  He only offered verbal assistance when they got off the interstate and he became Scarecrow to Vikki's Dorothy.  "Which way do I turn?" she said.

Because they both saw the arrow and spoke at the same time, the relationship was saved. 

Suffice to say, they arrived at the appointed time, on time...even a few seconds ahead of Jules, and proceeded into the appointed pre-race routine.  Stretch, drive to bathroom, drive to starting location, review Michael's timings and locations , pray and run.  All of which happened as scheduled, and at 6 AM, both ladies began their jaunt at the eight-mile mark of the Fox Valley course, a full hour and 10 degrees cooler than when the marathon began at 7 AM when Michael was scheduled to meet Vikki again.  Five miles down the road.

Order My Steps

Though not a song by which to run, nor one on the ChicagoMarathon VikkiThon playlist, "Order My Steps" is an essential preparation song.  A prayer for packing materials before the race.  A prayer for safety and travel during the run.
Written by acclaimed author Glenn Burleigh, the song came to our attention through the live recording by the  Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir.  The selection here is a powerful rendition by  the GMWA Women of Worship.
​Attend the lyrics.

​Order my steps in Your word dear Lord
Lead me, guide me everyday
Send Your anointing, Father I pray;
Order my steps in Your word
Please, order my steps in Your word
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I want to walk worthy
According to Thy will
Please order my steps Lord
And I'll do Your blessed will
The world is ever changing
But You are still the same;
Please order my steps, Lord I'll praise Your name

The best way to continue is to minimize the narrative and let you see and hear what transpired with a nod to Sgt. Joe Friday.  The story you're about to read is true.  No names are changed, and Michael maintains his innocence.   

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NEXT: "Knees on Fire" -- What running  on Sunday morning to beat competitive runners actually feels like.