You never know who you’re inspiring
In December, I checked off a huge goal: I ran my first half-marathon all the way through without stopping.
Since then, I’ve written a few times on social media about how meaningful the experience was, not only because it benefitted an incredible cause (St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital), but also because it was really special to train for my goal with two of my teammates, who did the St. Jude 10K the same day.
But the part of the experience that turned out to be the most special happened because of a complete stranger—and that’s the story I want to share with you today. It shows that you never know who’s watching . . . or who you’re inspiring.
Let me set the scene:
In January of last year, I made a commitment to myself to get back into running. I used to run many years ago and I missed it! I decided that in order to hold myself accountable, I would sign up for my first-ever race. I started with a 10K, and after that, I was hooked. I then ran several more races, hired a running coach, and started training for my ultimate goal: running my first 13.1 miles without stopping at the St. Jude race in Memphis.
My BHAG was to run this race in under two hours, which would mean maintaining a pace I’d never run before. When I woke up on that cold, December morning, it hit me: This was it. The moment I’d focused on all year long was finally here.
And I felt . . . uneasy.
Part of it was the weather: Though I live part-time in Michigan, I spend most of my time in Houston, so I’m not used to running in the cold. And it was cold. The morning of the race, it was maybe a degree or two above freezing.
The other part of my uneasiness was due to some pain in my Achilles’ tendon. I’d taken it easy earlier that week to give it a chance to recover, and though it was feeling better, I was worried it might hurt during the race.
But even with all of that, hitting this goal was important to me, and I showed up determined to give it my very best. I decided to trust my body and promised myself that if at any time I truly needed to stop, I would honor that.
The crowd at the starting line was massive, and everyone seemed so excited to be there. 22,000+ people run this race every year, and many of them are directly connected to St. Jude in some way, whether they’re family members of patients, patients themselves, or the amazing people who work there. The energy was electric and incredibly inspiring, and I got totally swept up in it.
As I stepped over the start line, things were going well: I was feeling pretty good, didn’t have any pain, and moving was helping me deal with the cold. But a few miles in, I started to get tired. I think it was a mix of not being used to running in such frigid weather and the course, which had a lot of hills. I usually train in Houston, where it’s mostly flat, so the uphill running was extra exhausting to me.
By the time I hit mile five or six, I was struggling with my mindset. I could feel myself wanting to slow down, and I knew I still had such a long way to go. I really wanted to finish this race strong, and as I thought about that, I remembered some advice that I’d gotten from my coach and from friends who run: Find someone who is going the pace that you want to maintain and follow them. Stay as close to them as you can, and when they take a step, you take a step.
It just so happened that, for the whole race, I’d been running behind a woman named Abby. I didn't know Abby; the only reason I knew her name was that she had her race bib pinned to the back of her leggings where I could read it. She seemed to be going about the pace that I wanted to run, so I followed the advice: Every time Abby took a step, I took a step. She stepped, I stepped. And that’s how it went—for miles.
There were so many times when we turned a corner and saw a huge hill in front of us, and everything in me would start screaming, “No! I just want to walk!” But then, Abby would take a step up the hill, and I would follow. And next thing I knew, I'm getting over the hill because Abby got over it. I even found myself cheering her on in my head: “Go, Abby! You go, girl!” She was so inspiring to me.
I truly followed everything she did: When she ate her gel pack, I ate mine. When she stopped to get water, I got water. My mindset became, “I just have to follow Abby. If I can follow Abby, I know I will get to the end of this race.”
When we got to the last mile, there was yet another hill left to conquer. After running 12 miles, that was the last thing I wanted to see. I was so tired, and I could feel myself slowing down. But then, Abby sped up. So I sped up. I couldn’t even believe I was doing it.
And then, all of a sudden, I was crossing the finish line with the biggest smile on my face. I didn't even know what my time was because my watch wasn't synced correctly to the mile markers around me, but I didn’t care. I had become so focused on Abby and trusting that she was going to get me to that finish line that all I could think about was that we did it.
As soon as I finished the race, the first thing I wanted to do was find Abby and tell her how she had kept me inspired the whole time. I looked around, but there were so many people at the finish line that I couldn't find her.
Shortly after that, I found my family, who broke the news to me that I had hit my goal of running 13.1 miles without stopping in under 2 hours! My final time was 1 hour and 53 minutes. (My teammate Monique also crushed her 10K goal, and though Rachel’s flight to Memphis sadly got canceled because of snow, she still ran her 10K at home in Virginia later that day and crushed it, too!)
I was shocked—and I knew without any doubt that it only happened because of Abby. Had I not followed her, I would have gone slower, and I might’ve even started walking. Instead, I finished strong. I left Memphis with a grateful heart—and assumed I would never see Abby again.
A few days later, I was looking through photos from the race online, and I spotted one of myself crossing the finish line—and, lo and behold, right behind me was Abby. I posted the photo on social media and basically wrote a tribute to Abby, where I said I didn’t know her, but if anyone did, please thank her for me.
Me and Abby (in the green)!
This is the power of the internet and social media: Someone who runs lots of races and knows how these things work saw my post on LinkedIn and scoured the results page to find Abby. She knew her finish time would be close to mine, and that’s how she found her. She then sent me Abby’s last name, and I was able to track her down on Instagram! I sent Abby the post I wrote about her and said something like, “I wrote this post for you. You have no idea how much you inspired me. Thank you.”
And then . . . Abby wrote me back! She said: “The craziest thing is that I remember you. You were inspiring me.” She told me that she wanted to give up so many times, but I was right behind her, and she felt like I was pushing her to keep going.
How amazing is that?! I'm tearing up just writing this. Ever since, we’ve stayed connected, and we’ve continued to cheer each other on. She ran her first marathon a few weeks ago on the same day that I ran a half-marathon at another race. We rooted each other on through Instagram, and it’s been the most unexpected and special connection. We’ve even joked that maybe we should run another race together in the future.
This just goes to show that you never know who is watching you, who you're inspiring, or who you're carrying. What is so cool to me is that Abby and I were complete strangers, and yet, we were able to build this encouraging, empowering relationship on and off the race course. I can now call her a friend. I’m so grateful that I found her and got to tell her about the impact she had on me.
What about you? Do you have an Abby? Have you ever had a moment when a stranger carried you (literally or figuratively) or unknowingly inspired you? Were you able to tell them what their example meant to you? Hit “reply” and tell me all about it. My team and I love reading your responses!
Whatever goal you’re after, I hope you find your Abby—and I hope you can be Abby for someone yourself!
Big hugs,
