“We run, not because we think it is doing us good, but because we enjoy it and cannot help ourselves…The more restricted our society and work become, the more necessary it will be to find some outlet for this craving for freedom. No one can say, ‘You must not run faster than this, or jump higher than that.’ The human spirit is indomitable.” – Roger Bannister
This Sunday my oldest son, Justin, will run his first marathon in at the Louisiana Marathon in Baton Rouge. For months he has been diligently training for this one event. I have witnessed his dedication and commitment with a combination of pride and awe. Those who invest themselves fully in pursuit of any aspired goal are certainly worthy of esteem and admiration, and that is certainly true of marathon runners. It requires as much mental stamina as physical and it tests the validity of each by requiring the marathoner to push to the outer limits of both.
To understand the endurance required of this event and the heroic allure it holds for those who readily embrace the supreme challenge that this race offers, it helps to know of its origin.
Some 2,500 years ago, Darius I of Persia established an empire that stretched across Asia and into Africa. Darius achieved such power that he was referred to as simply “the King,” as if there were no other ruler on the face of the earth. And it was his intention that there would actually be no other king in the known world. To that end, he made up his mind to make himself master of the Greeks, renown far and wide for their skill in peace and courage in war.
Darius sent heralds to every state in Greece to demand tributes of earth and water as symbols that the land and sea belonged to him alone. Some of the Greek states submitted, others proudly refused. Athens was among the latter. The Athenians threw the Persian heralds into a muddy ditch. “There you will find both earth and water for your master,” they cried.
When Darius heard of this rebuke he assembled his vast army, readied his fleet, and set sail for Greece. The Athenians soon learned of his approach and feared that their city would soon be attacked. The city rulers immediately thought of appealing to the famous Spartans, whose city-state lay 140 miles to the south, across the Isthmus of Corinth. They sent for Pheidippides, their champion runner and commanded him to proceed with maximum haste to Sparta and deliver Athens’ plea to come to her aid.
Pheidippides commenced his run. He ran up rocky paths, through shadowy gorges, across rivers. For two days and two nights he ran, carrying the urgent message. He reached Sparta hungry, footsore, and exhausted.
But Spartans, though fearless of Darius, were envious and distrustful of Athens. They murmured among themselves while Pheidippides waited for their response. Finally, they replied, “We must not act in haste. We must think this over. Besides, our customs and traditions require that we never fight when the moon is at the half. We will wait until the moon is full. Then perhaps we will come.”
Pheidippides fought both anger and despair, but he knew this was no time for bitterness or confrontation – he had to let his countrymen know of this possible delay or abandonment of support by Sparta. He immediately began the trek back to Athens. Exhausted again, he arrived in Athens with the news that Sparta would not help. The Athenians would have to rely on their own resources.
The Persian army had already landed on the Greek coast and set up camp on the plain of Marathon, about twenty-five miles from Athens. The Athenians resolved to oppose them at once. Though still weary from his exhaustive mission, Pheidippides took his long spear and heavy shield, and marched out with 10,000 fellow Athenian soldiers who were picked to engage the Persian army.
Though outnumbered, the Greeks came down from the hills to attack the enemy. Despite dreadful carnage, and a staunch defense by the Persians, at last the Greeks broke their line. When the battle finally ended, Darius and his army fled to their ships and sailed from Greece.
The Greek commanding general called on Pheidippides.
“Take the news of our victory to Athens as fast as you can.”
Despite being drained from the battle, Pheidippides flung down his shield and began to run as he had never run before. His thoughts were of his beloved city and his worried people, waiting to know if they were destined to live or die. His heart pounded, his temples throbbed, the muscles of his legs trembled, but not once did he stop. One mile, five miles, ten, twenty, twenty-five miles back to Athens he ran. The anxious citizens made way for him as he staggered to the center of the city and gasped, “Rejoice! We conquer” Then he collapsed.
The joyous Athenians raised him up in their arms, but soon realized that Pheidippides, the brave and committed runner of that first marathon race, had perished.
Today’s marathon distance has actually increased to 26.2 miles and now there are hundreds of runners at major races. Also, no deaths have been reported in modern times. However, the heroic courage and stamina first exemplified by Pheidippides over two-and-a- half millennia ago still holds true for those that accept and embrace this challenge. This Sunday my son, my hero, will attempt to join the heralded group of achievers that have reached this summit.
“I run because it’s so symbolic of life. You have to drive yourself to overcome the obstacles. You might feel that you can’t. But then you find your inner strength, and realize you’re capable of so much more than you thought.” – Arthur Blank
Have an AWE-full weekend! I know that I will.
William J. “Bill” Bacque