SPARTATHLON: Life lessons learned from a very long road

THE CHALLENGE

Spartathlon is an historic 153 mile/246 km foot race from Athens to Sparta.  The genesis of the race was to retrace the footsteps of Pheidippides, a great Athenian messenger.  The story goes that the Persian army was sailing to Greece for war.  The Athenians dispatched their greatest messenger to Sparta to recruit the brave and fierce Spartans to help combat the Persians.  It is said that Pheidippides arrived the very next day.  Hence, the Spartathlon race has been limited to 36 hours - it starts at 7 am on Friday morning (sunrise) and ends at 7 pm on Saturday evening (sunset).  If a Spartathlete can complete the distance in the allotted time, s/he will have completed the distance in the amount of time it took Pheidippides to travel the distance.

One must qualify for Spartathlon and meet time standards like a 10 hour 100k or 21.5 hour 100 mile, or other time standard.  Once a runner qualifies, the runner must apply for admission to the race.  390 people are invited to race every year from all over the world.  The US Team is only given 25 slots; hence, it is not easy to get in to this race.  There are 75 checkpoints along the route - and each one of them has a time cut-off.  The cut-off at the 50 mile checkpoint at the Corinth Canal is 9.5 hours.  The cut-off at the 100 mile checkpoint at Mountain Base is 22.5 hours.  A runner needs to be running pretty much all the time in order to not get timed out.

FEAR OF FAILURE

I have DNF''d 3 times in my life - my first attempt at the 100 mile distance at Leadville and 2 consecutive years at Spartathlon.  I didn't want to apply a third time for Spartathlon because I had failed previously.  I felt like the race had crushed my body and spirit.  In my head I didn't think I could finish.  I had been in good shape the past 2 years, and I timed out at 100 miles and 115 miles, respectively.  In reality, I quit mentally.  I was happy to have my bib pulled, and for the volunteers to stop my pain and suffering.

I just didn't want to go back to Spartathlon after failing 2 times.  However, I remember 2 things that I heard in Greece on those prior 2 occasions that somehow motivated me to reapply.  During the awards ceremony the first year I was there, a race official said,

You will need to overcome yourself at some point, if you are going to finish this race.

There can be no truer statement.  This race will force every runner to decide whether to CONTINUE or QUIT.  It breaks champions and world record holders - the likes of Michael Warden and Traci Falbo, just to name a couple of notable Americans.

The second statement was shared with me after I had DNF'd my second year and I was limping to a car.  One of the International Spartathlon officials saw me, walked straight towards me and said,

Spartathlon doesn't owe you anything.

This was also a very true statement.  Just because I tried a couple times and failed, it didn't mean I was entitled to anything.  In fact, we are not entitled to anything in life.  We must earn our successes. There are no shortcuts for success.  There are no handouts in life.  I needed to hear this statement, even if I felt like I was a dog being kicked when I was down.  That statement felt like it came from a well meaning Father figure who was telling me to "man up" and quit pitying myself.

The hardest part of this journey really was choosing to face my fear of failing a third time, and signing up and being vulnerable to yet another failure.

REGRETS

The first year I went to Spartathlon, I visited the Acropolis and took a small stone as a souvenir.  I wasn't supposed to take the stone, but I did.  This year, I took that stone back to the Acropolis and put it back where it belonged.  I tried to make things right for the mistake I had made.

This race also fell on a date that was the birthday of a person who is very important to me.  I felt like for the past 3 years I have chosen this race over this person.  This year, my flight was delayed and I was able to jump in a cab, surprise and love on this person and spend a couple hours together.  I tried to make things right for the mistakes I had made.

Every day we wake up and are given another day of life, we are given a second chance.  We can choose to open our hearts, acknowledge wrongdoings and correct them, ask for forgiveness, love and be loved,  and serve other people.  On the above two points, I'm glad I manned up and did the right thing, finally.

TRAINING

This was the first year that I made Spartathlon the focus of my entire year.  The first year I attempted it, it was a "training run" for VISIONRUNUSA (big mistake).  The second year, it was a "fun run" after I completed VISIONRUNUSA (big mistake).  I never gave the race the respect it deserved, and I ate crow each time.  This year, every step, every mile was leading to Spartathlon.  I ran the Boston Marathon, Badwater Salton Sea (81 miles), a Denver Marathon, the Vermont 100 and Run Rabbit Run 100 and a Mountain Marathon.  Each race was a stepping stone and intended to develop my body in ways to help me complete Spartathlon.  I also put in big training mile weeks of 140 miles per week (20 miles a day).  I attribute high mileage weeks with giving my body the ability to endure multiple 100s and to be able to recover within a couple weeks of racing.  Simply put, I needed to make Spartathlon my "A-race" in order to have a chance at completing it.

THE RUN

The night before the race, I received a note from an accomplished US ultra-runner who was a stranger to me and had DNF'd and finished Spartathlon in 2 consecutive years.  He gave me the following words:

Remember that you are just a messenger and run with heart.  Your job is to deliver a message of Hope that what people think is impossible, is actually possible.

Those words resonated with me, and touched me as this stranger knew exactly what I was about to go through.

The Spartathlon race officials require me to have a guide for safety reasons 100% of the time due to my visual impairment.  Although I feel this makes the race harder for me to complete, I understand that the race officials requirement is in place to protect me.  This year, I had a guide lined up from Puerto Rico.  The day before I was going to fly to Greece, I received a call from my guide.  He told me that he and his family were OK post-Hurricane Maria, however, the airport was closed and there was no way he could get to Greece to guide me.  I understood, but I didn't know what that meant for my race.

With Will Rivera who guided me for 100+ miles at break-neck pace.

I had another friend running the race who had volunteered to guide me, if something happened to my first guide.  I gladly took this friend up on his offer to be a back-up guide.  The race began and I soon learned that my guide had a goal to run under 30 hours at his first Spartathlon.  He is a good athlete, but I was skeptical of anybody's ability to go sub-30 on their first attempt and knew that was not my goal.  I didn't know what that meant for guiding.  I was in good shape, so we just ran fast from the start.  We went through 50 miles in 8 hours and 100k in 10 hours 10 minutes (a new PR for me).  We also went through 100 miles in 18 hours 49 minutes (a new PR for me by almost 2 hours).  We were moving fast, real fast - up and down hills.  Each one of us would pull at different times, and we were making each other run fast.  Then came the mountain - it was raining, windy and freezing.  We made it over the mountain, but both of us came off the mountain injured.  My guide thought his race was at risk of being over, and his sub-30 dream soon became "just finish."  After walking with my guide and talking him through the injury with positive thoughts, he recovered and was back in running form.  It was still dark and I was straying off the road and tripping.  He was ready to run and not guide, and it was time for us to part ways.  He ran off into the darkness, and as luck would have it within a minute I found another guide on the race course.  A lady name Wilma from the Netherlands (a 3x Spartathlete) had previously told me that she guided blind runners back home.  I couldn't see her, but I recognized the sound of her foot strike - soft and steady.

I said, "Is that Wilma?"
She said, "yes".
I said, "I need to ask you a favor."
She said, "Do you want me to guide you?"
I said, "yes" and off we went.

After the race with Wilma

Wilma guided me for the next 10 miles and into the sunrise and daylight of the second day.  She held a breakneck steady pace, and I knew why she was a 3x Spartathlete.  She would tell me "Running is my second love.  My first love is my husband."  I could relate to her statement.  As we entered the new day, I was having trouble keeping pace with Wilma.  I had IT and patellar pain in both knees, my right calf was in a constant cramped state and my left shin and ankle were throbbing with each step.  My run was no longer a run, but a skipping limp.  I also noticed that with each step I was grunting when I felt the pain of my left ankle and foot striking the ground.  I told Wilma she needed to leave me.  She challenged me, "Jason, you have to try!"  That was all I needed.  This person believed in me, I started running and the pain increased.  I was able to stay with her for a few more miles, then the inevitable happened - I told her she had to go on without me.  She would sacrifice her entire race for me if she stayed with me, and that was not fair.  In daylight, I could see good enough to finish on my own.  I did run the risk of being disqualified by race officials for not running with a guide.  She wouldn't leave me and I told her I was going to lay down and not move, unless she left me.  Wilma understood where I was at mentally, and she could tell that I was able to see a decent amount to be able to run safely in the light.  Eventually, she ran off into the distance and I wouldn't see her again.

Limping 13 miles with Steven

I partnered up with runners and hung on to runners as long as I could so I didn't have to run alone.  I respected the requirement the race officials had put on me, and I didn't want to run alone.  I ended up partnering up with a runner from Hungary - Nikolai.  I had met him in the breakfast line a couple days prior at our hotel.  By 140 miles of hopping from guide to guide I was spent mentally and the pain sensations were too much for me to bear running.  I found a racer who was limping like me and I asked him if he was going to "walk it in."  He said, "Yes."  My new friend was from Belgium and his name was Steven.  He told me he was tired and didn't want to talk.  No problem on my end - if I started trying to talk I would use valuable energy that I needed to try to get me to the finish.  I had ran hard through 140 miles and I knew I could walk it in at 20 minute miles and still have time to spare.  I just couldn't stop and give in to the pain.  Steven and I began "competing" with each other unknowingly.  We were walking 15 and 14 minute miles.  After about 45 minutes it was too much for the both of us, and we both pulled back to an easier 18-20 minute/mile pace.  As we spent hours together, I confided in Steven about not seeing well and going blind.  A couple times I strayed off the road and got a little too close to traffic.  Steven picked up on the fact that I needed help and he put his arm around me.  I felt safe with his arm on my shoulder and him guiding me.  I told him I felt safe.  We walked it in to a sub 34 hour finish at Spartathlon.  When we arrived at King Leonidas, we touched the foot of the statue at the same time, with Steven's hand on top of mine.

The final 100 meters

The FINISH!

I was overcome with emotion.  I couldn't stop crying and was unable to talk.  I saw race officials who had pitied me in my defeat for 2 prior years - their faces lit up with smiles saying "JASON!"  I had done it.  I did not give up on myself, despite wanting to.  I did not let fear paralyze me, despite teetering on the edge many times.  I did not give in to the pain, and chose to just endure it - the options were live with pain and finish or die, in which case the pain would go away (I'm glad I didn't die - smile).  The Mayor of Sparta greeted me, hugged me and held me as I cried.

Indescribable emotions.

MOM

My Mom came with me to crew me.  As always, she was there to be my biggest fan, and help me overcome whatever adversity was being thrown at me.  I was grumpy.  I didn't appreciate her as I should have.  I worried about her and she worried about me.  I am so grateful that we were able to get this one done together.  It's a special memory that we will have forever.  #BESTMOMEVER

With Mom at the start

CONCLUSION

A blind person has finally completed Spartathlon.  It took three years.  It took a lot of growing up as a man.  It took a lot of training.  But most of all, it took a lot of love from a lot of people, and there is one thing I am certain of . . .

LOVE NEVER FAILS

#ONWARD

Jason Romero is a highly sought after inspirational speaker and the 1st and only blind person to run across America.  Jason is a member of the US Paralympic Team, holds 12 world records in ultra-running, a former attorney and business executive, and a single father of 3 children.  More information can be found on Jason at www.relentlessromero.com.