I had a dream about Sam last night and I wanted to write it down before I forgot it completely. It’s already starting to fade, as dreams do.

I was at a hotel in Phoenix and it was the day before the marathon. I was with my team when MaryAnn, our TNT leader, told me that Sam and Rudy were downstairs in room 106. So Andrea and I ran downstairs to a large, empty room with a smooth concrete floor (a bit like a church fellowship hall might look like). When I walked into the room Sam immediately knew who I was and ran over too me. I knelt down and he wrapped his arms tightly around my neck. I hugged him back, holding back tears. He then looked at me and said, “Thank you for running for me.” He gave Andrea a hug and then went back to playing with seemingly abundant energy.

Then Rudy came over and did the shake-your-hand/hug thing that guys do. The look of gratitude mixed with sadness in his eyes will be hard to forget. Then my stupid alarm went off. Ahh! I hate working Saturdays.

I’m praying for you Sam. Be strong and run the race set before you.

The legend that has inspired the modern-day marathon says that the Athenians, against all odds, won a significant battle against the Persians. A runner was then dispatched 26.2 miles from Marathon to Athens to carry the news of the great victory. Supposedly he reached the city, said, “Rejoice, we conquer,” and fell to the ground dead. I was fortunate enough not to meet such a fate on Sunday at P.F. Chang’s Rock ‘N’ Roll Marathon. To describe the experience, I will use the words of Dickens:

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

I can’t really go into too much detail about the race itself (since most details escape me) but I will try to describe the essence of the race. I was a beautiful day. Perfect really, with blue skies and cool temperatures. We ran through the cities of Phoenix, Scottsdale, and Tempe so I got to see much of the area. There were bands every few miles with screaming supporters and high school cheerleaders the whole way. It was all very exciting.

But to be perfectly blunt and honest, this was the single most painful long-distance run I have ever experienced. Surprisingly, it wasn’t the distance that made it so difficult. I know this for two reasons. One is that I’ve run comparable distances (18, 20 miles) and had very healthy experiences. Two is that the pain started early, shortly after the halfway point, a mere 13 miles.

I can’t really pinpoint why this run was so much more difficult than any of my training runs. I do, however, know that the experience was very telling about the human body, the human spirit, and myself as a person, When you hurt that much it seems to distill everything around you and everything inside you. Needs become simple. Binary. Stop or go.

I think it was just after mile 19 that I really hit the wall. This moment could compete for the most humbling experience in my life. Every fiber of my being wanted to keep running for Sam, to be strong for him, to set an example. But despite this most pure desire I could not run. My legs burned. I slowed to a walk. I prayed. I longed to see my wife’s face. I promised Sam I would cross the finish line.

And I did with the awesome help of the Team in Training coaches out on the course. I must have had the most distraught look on my face because every coach for the last five miles asked if I was okay. A coach named Alex from D.C. walked with me from mile 23 to 25. It was one of the kindest things anyone has ever done for me. At mile 25.8 I asked two female coaches to help me run again. “I want to run across the finish line for Sam,” I said. So we ran. Not much faster than a walk at first. I prayed the paraphrase of Hebrews 12:1 that I had been praying all day, “Let us let go of every weight and every sin and run the race set before us.” All of the spectators were cheering me by name because it was painted on the front of my jersey. “Go Aaron!” “You’re almost there!” “Run with Sam!” some said as they saw the tribute to Sam on my back. My pace quickened. The end was in sight. The announcer called out my name. I crossed the finish line.

Then I saw my wife. “Over here!” she shouted. She had finished the half marathon sometime before and was waiting for me. I ran to her, hugged her, and did something I don’t usually do; I cried. No, I wept. I buried my head into her shoulder and wept. “I did it,” I said through tears. “I did it with Sam.” It was the best of times.

I don’t know what else to say but thank you to so many people. To Rudy and Kafi for their support and gratitude. To Sam for his bravery. To my wife for her love and compassion. To Team in Training, a wonderful and strong organization that has raised hundreds of millions of dollars for people like Sam (Team in Training raised over 3 million dollars at this marathon alone). To all who donated to this charity to allow my wife and me the honor of running with Sam. We raised over 5000 dollars with your help. And finally to God Almighty, who gives us strength, teaches us humility, and promises that the best is yet to come.

Grace and peace to all of you.

Everyone here knows that I’m running this marathon on Sunday for Sam who has leukemia. However, I also want all of Phoenix to know it too! To accomplish this I’ve created a banner to wear on my jersey through the race. If you would also like to show your support for Sam and leukemia research, feel free to download the full-sized version.

I feel like I’ve been going nonstop since the holidays just rushing, rushing, rushing all the time. Andrea and I were in Ohio for Christmas and Delaware for New Year’s. We spent a few days at home in between the two but Andrea had to work and I spent all of my free time developing a web app for our church (which is still a work in progress). After New Year’s we had Venture Crew meetings and marathon meetings and a million little things that needed to be done. And now, finally, I have a minute to breathe.

We drove to Baltimore last night and stayed in a hotel so we could catch our early flight out to Phoenix for the long anticipated marathon. We met our small team of 8 (minus two with other travel arrangements) along with friends and family at 5:30 this morning. The flight was nonstop and went very smoothly. So now I sit with an entire two hours with nothing to do. Yes ladies and gentlemen, I am on vacation.

The race is Sunday. 26.2 miles of fun. Please keep me in your prayers. I’m very nervous about some pain in my left foot. I’ve made it this far and I don’t want to let the Carrascos down.

20 miles is
32.18 kilometers is
32180 meters is
105,600 feet is
1,267,200 inches is
3.64 times the height of Mount Everest is
1.22 times the length of Manhattan is
2/3 the width of Rhode Island is
2/3 the distance from Searcy, AR (home of my college) to Heber Springs (Mrs. Baeder’s hometown) is
the distance from Justin’s apartment to Federal Way (or Mill Creek or Issaquah) is
the distance from Harrisburg to Carlisle (for the PA locals) is
more than the distance most SUV’s can travel on a gallon of gasoline is
how far I ran before noon on Saturday is
more than most people run all year is
more than worth it to find a cure for Sam.

Can you come up with any more?

About a month ago the Logan Daily News, the local newspaper from the small Ohio town I grew up in, published this article about our marathon. It’s a good write-up. It gives a brief history of me in relation to my hometown and explains well why we’re running. I guess this is one of the advantages of growing up in a small town. It’s possible I could have gotten a paper in a larger town to do a story but I doubt most of the readers would care. In this case, my mother has received phone calls and visits at the office telling her “what a nice boy” I am for doing this. I think that’s pretty cool. One point for small towns.

In other news, I have decided that I am a very sick individual. Last Saturday I had the following conversation:

Someone: Did you run today?
Me: Yeah.
Someone: Cool. How far?
Me: Only 14 miles.

Only 14 miles? What’s wrong with me?

20 miler coming up this Saturday. This is the peak of my training. I won’t run anymore than this until the marathon. We’re still accepting donations to benefit leukemia research. This is the number one thing on our Christmas lists. Please give generously.

This past Saturday I ran 18.2 miles through the hills and dales of central Pennsylvania, the furthest I’ve ever run in my life! This is how my coach described it in his weekly email to the team.

15 hardy souls appeared at the covered bridge on the campus of Messiah College this Saturday AM. The weather was crystal clear and crisp with temps in the low 20’s. The course was the infamous Moore’s Mountain/Round Top Insanity. The Disney and Arizonians did a very tough 18 miles on very hilly terrain. Although it was a difficult loop our TNT runners hung tough.

“Insanity” is right. One has to be a little crazy to run up and down hills for three and a half hours in sub-freezing temperatures. But it was perfect too. The sky was clear and blue and the scent of winter was in the air. We ran through forest and pastures, passed century-old farmhomes and estates, and over one-lane bridges. We were befriended by a herd of deer. We saw the hills ski resort still green as the workers were preparing the snow making equipment. We passed harvested fields, scenic vistas, apple orchards, and families cutting their Christmas trees. Every bend in the road seem to yield another hidden treasure. Unfortunately it was usually at the top of a hill. Insane. Perfect.

Five more week until the marathon. Your prayers for continued health and safe travels are appreciated. Also continue to remember Sam. He’s doing better but still has three and half more years of standard treatment ahead of him. We are still accepting donations if you would like to support our marathon and leukemia research.

That’s me on the standing on the far right.

As a side note, I must say that the truly insane moment of the day was thinking that going Christmas shopping at the mall after running 18.2 miles would be a good idea. What?!

We hit the 50% mark on our fundraising today! Woohoo!