Run On, Bob
For me, it is the most inspirational story to come out of a Monday where sorrow prevailed over much of America. Bob Marshall ran the Boston Marathon.



As a 54-year-old runner last Fall, Marshall qualified for Boston last October by running Utah's St. George Marathon in 3 hours and 34 minutes. The Boston Marathon is the only marathon in America that sets qualifying standards. Saying you ran Boston is to runners what signing a professional contract is to a high school athlete. Marshall earned his way to the start line with his impressive time in St. George. He also made it to the finish line in Boston yesterday. Barely.

Still a 54-year-old runner yesterday, Marshall trudged and sloshed his way through the rain-soaked course in 6 hours and 12 minutes. Did Heartbreak Hill and the weather alone account for this race being 2 hours and 38 minutes longer than his St. George Marathon?

No, ALS did.


Marshall was diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's disease just weeks after his St. George race. His body began to fail him, but his mind wouldn't quit. He wasn't quite stopped in his tracks, but the rapid progression of the disease made it a race of an entirely different dimension just to see the dawn of a rainy Patriot's Day Monday in Massachusetts.

Many people consider running to be sheer agony. The last six miles of a marathon can be literal agony. But even as dedicated runners properly prepare themselves and turn running into a joy, marathon training is often a burden - even with the clearest of minds and the healthiest of bodies. It's physical and mental.

Marshall refused to relinquish his hard-earned goal. He didn't lower his sights. In what had to have been an incredibly painful process, he pushed himself to finish what he started. I'm sure he prayed. His family and friends ran with him. They supported him in every way. His wife tied his shoes. He stared down the realization of the "last" marathon of his life. He beat it.

He traversed the 26 miles and 385 yards. He shrugged off the rain. He ignored the aches. He gutted out Heartbreak Hill. He staggered on Beacon Street. He, and eveyone, cried at the finish line.

Bob Marshall returns to Utah this week to the mind-chilling realization that every day, every week, every step is going to be worse than the previous one. There's no stopping ALS. He will be lucky to be alive for next year's Boston Marathon. Or maybe he will be lucky to not be alive, with a clear soul released from the shackles of his earthly body. Regardless of how long his mind and body fight, he will go out a winner, just before he wanted to, just like the insidious disease's namesake.

Run on, Bob, for your soul.

Run on, Bob, for the inspiration you have provided so many of us on a day when our nation's senses were so dulled.

The Deseret News ran this story in March. It tells the equally sad and inspiring story of his terminally ill wife.




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Posted on April 18, 2007 at 12:35 AM |