Through Running, Scot Finds Joy

Guest post
This past weekend in Cincinnati, Scot Howell was one of thousands who lined the streets, participating in the 20th annual Flying Pig Marathon. Everyone has their own purpose for their long hours of training and mental preparation that culminates in a 26+ mile run. Scot shares why he does it and why this marathon is a personal passion of his.

by Scot Howell

“The Flying Pig Marathon-Cincinnati Organizers asked me why I run. My reply was simple, I run to overcome depression. Looking back though, I see that as a cop-out. My depression, along with a couple other diseases are alive and well, dark and powerful. Does running defeat that? No. But it helps.

When I walked my neighborhood thinking I was being healthy, my friend Chris believed in me enough to challenge me to my first 5k. He stayed behind me cheering me on while pushing his daughter in her stroller. That taught me to support others in the running community. My friends Jim, Edward, Jeff, Kim, & Rick took me on a 10k that was all hills. I was third to last, coming in ahead of an octogenarian and a pregnant lady pushing a double stroller. That taught me a couple things. First, to be humble and grateful for the ability to run. Secondly, to make hill training a big part of my runs (and with some pride I admit that I climb hills now without challenge). On my first 10k, my neighbor Brian passed me slowly and steadily, losing me without effort. That taught me to train, to want to grow, to be better.

This was my third full Flying Pig Marathon. When I ran my first full Pig, I was angry and resentful for miles 1-4. All these people lined the course, but they weren’t there for me. No one was there for me. I hate this, I thought. All these people cheering and I hate me. You can see, the disease (s) are quite powerful. What I’ve been taught was that a spiritual experience occurred. A voice in my head fueled by that tingling you feel in your gut, somewhat like a nervousness shouted, “they’re all here for you!” I smiled and wept. Guided by a power greater than I, the entire run was the greatest experience of my life.

When I run I do what I’ve learned from everyone else. I take out my earbuds for each performer I pass because I appreciate their effort. I congratulate everyone wearing a first timer or streaker bib. If we pass each other again I tell them again. When I receive nutrition and hydration I say thank you. I throw my trash in the can versus the ground. You shouldn’t have to clean up after me. (Amusing side note: I was 4 for 26 in making the trash can so many volunteers still had to clean up after me.) I thank people for dressing up, such as Santa with the sign “I believe in you”. I thank fan zone folks, such as the Alzheimer’s Association with the sign “run like the PTO chair is chasing you to volunteer”. That one was this PTO dad’s favorite, btw.

Some years back I chose to travel a short path in life. It wasn’t far, about a dozen steps. Taking that route has made me understand some things about my life. One is that I am where I’m supposed to be when I’m supposed to be there. As I approached the 26 mile flag I knew the timer was near to measure our final mile. I walked out the pain, massaged my quads, said a quick prayer then resumed my run. This wouldn’t be a slow mile, having been beat down by distance and a head full of ill thoughts. I ignored my legs and my knees, one quick hill as we passed the Boathouse. I noticed someone staying with me. She had on the familiar “first marathon” bib. I congratulated her. She thanked me and shared with me her excitement. I wept behind my sunglasses feeling so happy for her. I knew that feeling. Also knowing the crowds get thick and loud at the end I had removed my earbuds. Nothing feels so good as to feel that much energy. We chatted in short breaths. She was so excited and proud. As we passed fans, I yelled to them she was a first timer, to make some noise. They responded loudly each time. She thanked me. I crossed the finish before her and got to see her face as she completed her first marathon. It was amazing. I congratulated her, gave her a bottle of water and thanked God for the opportunity. I was there with her as He would have me and I got to see so much happiness and excitement. There is no greater gift in life.

Why do I run? A three word answer certainly cannot suffice. I run because I want to live and I want to be Happy, Joyous, and Free. I want to be all the things others have taught me to be. Today I am, it’s tomorrow I want. I truly appreciate every single human who helped, cheered, performed, sent kind words, high fives, hugged, and supported me and all the runners this year. With all of you, the sunlight of the Spirit keeps my darkness away and today is great day.”