Children of My Heart: 2013

It is well past time for me to update my loyal supporters on the result of my November marathon. Having scheduled this race for shortly after my Bolivian sponsor tour I was a bit undertrained which wasn't such a good thing. Actually, undertrained was a bit of an understatement since the longest distance I had run since the PREVIOUS November's marathon was 13.1 miles. So...nursing bronchitis that a caught from a plague-ridden woman on my flight home from Miami and sleep deprived I decided that regardless of my time, or what may hurt I was going to complete 26.2 miles for the sake of all the children at Morningstar CDI in India. The day started out chilly but I felt good and actually pretty confident. This is me at the start line:

Cheery enough, right? Well I figured to take the pressure off I would start way in the back of the pack. I quickly found another jogger and started some small talk at about the quarter mile mark. The woman happened to be from out of state, but grew up in the area so for the next 8 or 10 miles I learned alot about the local history. We met a few other "back of the packers" and had nice conversation. I was actually ENJOYING myself. I figured hey, I can DO this! No problem right? Um until about mile 13.5 when my body suddenly said "Hey, WAIT! Why aren't we done?" From that point on the next 5 miles or so were doable but not fun. I had to think about my form and listen to music to make the time go by a little faster. Definately not fun anymore, but tolerable I thought. Until mile 19 or so. When my legs decided to start cramping, my feet developed blisters in funny places and my back started to ache. I tried my hardest to continue to run but a funny thing happened. No matter how my brain told my legs to run and tried to move them at a running pace, the only thing I could do was walk. For a couple of MILES. And I was glad for that since my quads were screaming for me to JUST...STOP...ALREADY!!! I was able to eventually start "jogging" again but by this time it was a very unattractive loping shuffle. The path seemed never ending and I no longer judged distance by miles, but just convinced myself to get to the next aid station where I would walk and drink gatorade. I finally got to about a mile and a half from the end and across the river could see the park and somehow picked Gene out of the crowd. He was waving like a lunatic and it actually did make me feel better. At about a half mile to go I came into the park and Gene actually ran with me for a quarter of a mile, jeans and bad shoes and all. By the time I got around to the finish line I was ready to cry. The announcer apparently said my name but I never heard him. All I cared about was getting my feet over the little blue line. I grabbed my medal and plastered a happy face on for this picture:

I look so happy...and it is such a lie. But, you can't send pictures of yourself crying or puking to adoring children so I had my photo-op. This was also an unfortunate error in judgement because I hadn't walked around to cool down and in the time it too to fluff my silver towel thing and pose all the muscles of my lower body seized up. Gene offered to carry me to the car but I did still have some pride left so I ended up shuffling to the car. It took me so long that it was all warmed up by the time I got there. I could barely walk for the subsequent two days, but that matters not since pain is temporary and running/jogging/walking this marathon was a 5 hour testiment to my stubborness that raised $500 dollars for a donation to IN860. I haven't decided if I will run this race again next year. So far the answer is no, but I'm sure the memory of the agony will fade eventually and there are other projects that are close to my heart. Never say never.

This was the day I have been waiting for since I joined Compassion, meeting Luis. I can't believe it was over 3 months ago. I don't know why I have been procrastinating this post so much, maybe because I don't want to believe it's over already. Luis and his mother Maria braved a 7 hour bus ride to get to our destination. I was a bit surprised that I recognised him right away because he was so much smaller than I thought he would be, though his mother is also small like me. He is a very shy child, and actually is the most shy of my 3 Bolivian kids. He didn't speak alot during the day and when he did it was with a soft voice. He and his mother brought me presents including a group of family photos, a native doll, and a beautiful scarf and bag. The photos show he and his father and mother and also him and his two older sisters. His 18 year old sister is pregnant with a boy and is due in December. We went to a little park that had a few rides. The highlight was the soccer ball I brought for him as well as a game of table hockey that we played. Luis, like me, is afraid of heights and while he enjoyed riding the carousel and train, he could not be convinced to try the mini roller coaster. He had really wanted to try the paddle-boats so we did that and though the legs of my pants were soaked, it was worth it to see him smile. There was also a walk-through area that had fish tanks as well as a crocodile and a large snake. For lunch we were served fried chicken and french fries which Luis didn't touch as he likes VEGETABLES better! He did drink the warm coca-cola and since I can't tolerate warm soda, gave him my bottle for the ride home. Only later did I think of his poor mom sitting next to a highly caffeinated 9 year old for seven hours. After lunch we played on the see-saw and he also tried the monkey bars. Our translator was a good sport and would hold him up so he didn't fall. He did try the slide but would always use his hands or feet as brakes. After games in the afternoon we gathered to get ready to leave when Luis saw some of the kids rolling down a hill which he just had to try himself. I was lucky enough to get this precious moment on video. He also played a game of leapfrog with the translator. After the park we went to an ice cream shop where he opened the rest of his gifts and tried to eat an ice cream sundae the size of his head. He very quietly pulled each item out and looked at it before putting it all back. At the end he just turned to me, smiled, and threw himself at me to hug. Luis shared that he is interested in hospitals and wants to be a doctor. His mother also shared that when school ends and he is on summer break he will go to the lowest part of Bolivia where his mother's family is from. They go to harvest cacao and must travel 6 hours on the infamous "Bolivian Death Road" to get there. His parents go three times per year but while he is in school he stays with his sister while his parents go. His father is a construction worker who met his mother in her home town when she was working the banana crop and Luis's father was traveling to pickup rice. While we ate the ice cream we were teaching each other words in our own language when he started to have a stomach ache. He got very quiet and was crying a little. I don't know if it was from the stress of travel, the new foods, or that he realized the day would soon end and was upset by this. He chewed some coca leaves one of the other mothers brought and felt a little better. His mother shared about their local language, Aymara, and that the goverment was requiring children to start learning this or one of the other native languages such as Quechua. Luis will start learning it in school next year so his parents have started teaching him at home to make it easier.
At the end of the day it was time to say goodbye. We walked outside and he became totally quiet and rigid, looking only at the ground. He tried to keep his back to me so I peeked over his shoulder and when I saw he was crying, I lost it and cried as well, as did his mother. She asked that I come back to Bolivia and baptize Luis and asked if I would still write letters and for me to not forget her. Then the project worker told me that even if I never saw him again on earth I would see him in heaven. I thought I was crying before, but was nearly hysterical at this point. So much for not embarrassing the little guy. I don't know how this could have been a better day, or how they could ever think that I could forget them.