Well Punk, How Heroic Do You Feel?

As I listened to CBC Radio One's program Tapestry and the discussion on the Hero myth, my thoughts turned to the marathon in Corning that I would run in a week's time. What does it mean to be a "Hero"? It seemed to me that to be a "Hero" you have to do epic battle with something. Picture St. George and the Dragon, Joan of Arc or Odysseus in the Odyssey. I think on this hero thing and the marathon, I can't quite grasp who or what the enemy is that I must contend with.

So, maybe I can sneak up on my adversary by examining the origins of this race. I break out Encarta and the Encyclopaedia Britannica and see what they have to say. First I look up the race itself. The marathon definitely has its "heroic" roots.

Marathon (sport), running event, traditionally the longest race (42 km, 195 m/26 mi, 385 yd) included in track and field competitions. It is the final track and field event held in the Summer Olympic Games. Marathons have become increasingly popular, and well-known marathons such as those held annually in Boston, Massachusetts and New York City attract thousands of runners and spectators.

The marathon's distance was chosen to duplicate the distance run by a Greek soldier from the town of Marathon to Athens in 490 BC to bring the news of a Greek victory over the Persians. The Marathon-Athens distance is actually less than 40 km (25 mi). The modern distance was established at the 1908 Olympic Games in London and represents the distance from the royal castle at Windsor to the Olympic stadium. From the revival of the Olympics in 1896 until 1984 only men ran the marathon at the Olympics. There are no men's and women's records for the event because each marathon course is different. The best men's times are under 2 hours and 7 minutes. The best women's times are slightly above 2 hours and 20 minutes.

This tells me distances, time, numbers, but only leaves a taste of the real myth of the marathon. What I'm looking for has little to do with the Herculean efforts of Jerome Drayton, Emil Zatopek or Frank Shorter. They were also inspired to do battle, but was it with themselves or each other. Their aspect has something to do with the myth, but were they chasing the myth as well as becoming part of it.

Marathon (village), village of ancient Greece, on the east coast of Attica, northeast of Athens. It stood in a plain hemmed in by mountains, marsh, and sea. The plain of Marathon is renowned as the scene of a great battle fought between the Athenians and the Persians in 490 BC. The battle resulted in the defeat of the invading Persian army of Darius the Great by the Athenians under the leadership of their general, Miltiades. This victory saved Athens and inspired the Greeks with the determination that enabled them to rout the Persians completely ten years later. The mound raised at Marathon over the dead Athenians is still visible. The name marathon, now applied to long-distance foot races, commemorates the legendary feat of the Athenian who carried the news of victory from the field to Athens.

This is closer to what I'm looking for. However, today on that 26.2 miles we run there are no monsters or armies chasing us, or information to deliver at all costs. So, what makes this chapter in Greek history as well as the marathon distance, worthy of the heroic aura that surrounds it? Who or what is it that we are doing battle with and what evil is it that we must vanquish?

If we were Greek warriors, we would suit up for battle with helmet, shield and sword. As runners, our battle gear is Coolmax, Vaseline and running shoes. That is hardly a heroic comparison. And yet, are these not the means of protecting ourselves during our battle? Maybe the warrior image isn't that far fetched after all.

The question was still with me unanswered as I waited the air horn start in Corning. The first few miles, I was too busy with the job at hand, getting into my race groove to think about it.

As the miles went by, I slipped in and out of that Zen like trance state that tells me I'm focused and running well. Now is not the time to ponder mysteries. It is time to stay loose, relaxed and to move to the rhythm of the race.

When the pain starts, it drives out all thoughts with the exception of determination to finish at all costs. I stumble the last miles, driven more by anger than by stubborn determination. The sprint to the finish is driven by shear willpower over the crippling protests of my hip and legs.

After my race is done, I'm still too caught up in the relief of finishing and the euphoria of others to think deep thoughts.

This thing needs time to digest. Only by putting some time between the race and myself can I look back on it with clearer eyes.

It's taken me a few weeks, but distance gives perspective. I think back to something that Donna Hill, a fellow Burlington Runners Club member, said on the bus trip back. "It's not the time that is important, but that you finished is what matters." Here I feel is the key to my question.

In the end, a few runners battle each other striving for top honours. But like the rest of us that embark on this journey, they must also contend with the inner demons of self-doubt and failure.

It's not the road or the time that make the marathon distance "heroic", but the battle within individual runner. The marathon is defined by the measuring of the body's strength and the mind's resolve, that each runner, no matter what his or her ability must perform. It is not an army that we must conquer but ourselves.

The twenty-six miles, three hundred eighty-five yards we travel remains unchanged once the race is done, but is person that crosses the finish line the same person that started? By challenging the limits of our ability and surpassing them we become a hero. 

By Mark G. Collis

Revised: July 24, 2006.