Losing faith in humanity? Go watch a marathon.
On the 24th of October, my good friend Fraser and I ran the Liverpool Rock n’ Roll Marathon. We completed it in around 4 hours and 25 minutes, marking the greatest achievement of my life so far.
However, after we completed the 26.2 mile (42 Kilometre) distance, I found myself not talking about my medal or the fact I had completed the marathon. I found myself talking about the incredible acts of friendship and comradery which I witnessed throughout the course. Those moments made me realise that what I got out of the marathon was far more than just a medal or a time: I learned that sticking with, and helping those around you to achieve a common goal is much more important and rewarding.
An example of this kindness and friendship that I keep thinking back to, came at around the 22-mile mark. At this point, our bodies had run out of glycogen and carbohydrate energy stores, meaning our body was burning fat for energy and the build-up of lactic acid over the previous three and a half hours was rendering our muscles useless. The term for this in marathon running is ‘hitting the wall.’ Every step felt like dragging our legs through thick mud, while the bottom of our feet seemed to be crying to us to stop running. Every fibre of our bodies wanted us to stop, and some people were affected by this more than others.
One particular man, who was no more than 23 or 24 years old, hit this metaphorical wall at force. As we were approaching the waterfront at Otters Pool Park, he suffered a terrible set-back. His hamstring pulled and he was subsequently sick on the side of the course. In an attempt to be selfless, not wanting to hinder his friend's final time, the man implored his two friends to go on without him. Yet, without hesitation, his two running partners refused to leave his side, and went on to lift him up for the remaining 4 miles. Those three men were raising money for Macmillan cancer support, and they finished the marathon in a very respectable 4 and a half hours. Together.
Another act of kindness that I received and that has stuck with me, was the unwavering and incredibly touching support that I, and the other runners, received from the hundreds, maybe thousands, of spectators who came to watch. It seemed that whenever the course got tough, there was always a stranger there on the side, clapping and urging us on to the end. Not only was I touched by the support of my family and friends, which of course meant so much, but I was also touched and quite surprised at the incredible motivation and support that was provided by complete strangers, especially towards the end of the course.
With around 5 kilometres left, I was begging for it all to be over. It was getting harder and harder as I took each step. I was drained both mentally and physically, but suddenly, out of nowhere, a group of both adults and young children started roaring support at me: “You’re so close… just keep going… You’re doing amazingly!”
For anyone who has ever wondered whether that support helps, I can tell you that it unequivocally does. I was so overwhelmed by some of the support from people I had never met that I managed to sprint the last few hundred metres, using every bit of energy I had left. Not only did the support I received allow me to get a better time than I would have done, but it has caused me to want to be kinder and more supportive to others in the future.
In terms of how this could be applied to our roles as tutors, I believe that there is a moral message to be taken from what I learned whilst running the marathon. At times, the young people that we help will be struggling, both mentally and physically. We may be aware of this or not. But what I know for certain is that, had the people supporting not given me those words of encouragement, it would have made my journey through the course much, much harder. Similarly, when you see someone struggling in your placement, whether a student or a member of staff, take the time to show that you are there for them. It really does go a long way to know that someone wants you to do well, and believes that you can do well.