Earlier this fall, we brought you the story of Wilton resident Lindsay Wheeler, who had committed to run the 2014 TCS NYC Marathon, to raise awareness about mental health issues. Yesterday, Wheeler fulfilled that dream, finishing the marathon in 4 hours, 4 minutes and 23 seconds. We asked her permission to share her post-race thoughts from her Facebook page with GOOD Morning Wilton. True to her energetic self, Lindsay immediately said, “Yes!”
Yesterday morning I woke up to multiple emails from the New York Road Runners explaining that weather conditions would not allow for heated tents to stand at the start of the marathon and that signage would have to be taken down throughout the course.
I ate some eggs and toast, boarded the Staten Island Ferry and slowly made my way toward where the 50,000+ runners were lined up boarding buses to the start. A fellow runner saw me shivering in the cold and offered me a garbage bag for shelter. I took it, wrapped it around my head, and shielded myself from the 50 mph winds pounding the Staten Island harbor. I made a friend in the process.
Herded to the start line with thousands of others, Frank Sinatra’s ‘New York, New York’ played and the energy became instantly contagious, despite the high winds and gray skies that no one seemed to complain about. Crossing the Verrazano Bridge I was blown in every direction, maintaining my 5-year-old-in-a-candy-store gaping smile. I positively beamed as I came over the crest of the first major obstacle of the race. I took a video of shed clothes flying through the air and bodies being moved by the sheer power of the wind. It ended with a quick glimpse of my smiling face as I ran in a race that I realized with increasing vigor, as I conquered each borough, is itself an utter privilege to take part in.
Eight miles in, as I pounded through the streets of Brooklyn, I was welcomed by a cheering squad of friends, new and old, and family from far and wide, who expertly navigated the city to see me in three locations throughout the course. I punched at least 10 signs with my fist that read, “touch here for power,” slapped both the tiniest and youngest of hands, and the oldest, frailest of hands that New York City had to offer, all in a wonderfully overwhelming 26.2 mile span. I was given lollipops, Reese’s cups, hugs, cheers, tissues, pretzels, nesquick and a continuous stream of encouragement from total strangers.
A runner who was part of the 80+ age group ran alongside me at one point, staring straight ahead with determination. One man laid on the sidewalk at mile 24, closing his eyes after pushing it too far. My brother, Chris Wheeler, traveled close to a thousand miles just to show me that he was proud of me. My dad trudged around Manhattan a week after having major surgery and stood above a massive crowd on a wall, just to see me pass him for a split second. He was just a little bit too tired to make it to the finish line after sprinting down First Ave. to try and catch a glimpse but he was the first one to call. Mom led the entourage of fans on a complex journey around the boroughs to help keep me going strong.
All in all, the run itself was surprisingly underwhelming, as I had put in the necessary training. The people who reached out a hand, decorated signs, tossed me candy, chocolate milk, and above all, extended words of love and encouragement along my journey to the start and ultimately, to the finish, gave me both inspiration and new life.
Many of you have probably been wondering about the billboard competition I took part in over the months leading up to the marathon. I found out earlier this week that I was not among the two winners. As I finally learned of the results, I realized that they were no longer of much importance to me one way or another. I have seen my friends and family stand up in the last few months like never before. My journey toward the NYC marathon has taught me countless lessons about honesty, finding light in dark places, taking accountability and charge of my own experience, and most importantly, how much I have to be grateful for. I really see through new eyes.
I am so grateful to those of you who told me you believed in me when I couldn’t find it in myself, offered me unconditional support, advice, donations, votes, encouragement through medical hiccups, comforting stories of personal struggle, marathon FaceTime cheers, endless patience, and the occasional reminder that while life works in peculiar ways, everything happens for a reason.
I have found new purpose in life through running and navigating the last year of my life. My silver lining has grown into a boundless horizon.
Realizing that Manhattan was within my reach as I crossed the Queensboro bridge, watching as complete strangers jumped and screamed as I passed, like I was part of one big family, and looking down to see 50 congratulatory texts from friends, family, neighbors and old lab partners as I crossed that line, helped every last glitch I still held onto fade into a beautiful chapter of my past.
Thank you my beautiful friends and family, for getting me to that finish line and to Jenn Shidler Lewis for inspiring me to persevere and be empowered, rather than defeated, by struggle and convincing me that we could really do it.
