JW Run Blog 6: Fernando's Fight

Fernando's Fight

Boston Marathon 2011

My first Boston as a qualifier! A bib number with 4 digits! (They order the numbers by qualifying time.) Pretty heady stuff. I wasn’t in great shape, however, heading into the race. In December 2010 I had my first serious experience with back spasms, which shut me down completely. No running, no biking until the second week in January. And the nagging groin injury I had was diagnosed as a hernia. I would need surgery to repair it. I asked the surgeon if I could train for and run Boston before getting the surgery. He said, “Yes, if it doesn’t get any worse and you don’t mind the pain.” Okay. We scheduled surgery for 10 days after the race. I bought one of those weird hernia belts, which helped ease the pain during training. I won’t get into the medical details, which I find kind of gross. Suffice it to say I was running with a low-level pain in the lower abdomen. 

Sometime early in 2011, Fernando Morales was diagnosed with Ewing’s sarcoma and began aggressive treatment. Fernando was the son of our friends Albino and Esther Morales, who we met at St. Timothy Parish in Norwood. He was about the same age as our middle son, Aaron. The two of them played soccer together a few times on the Norwood town teams--at least a couple of times with Albino and I as coaches. I decided to run Boston with Fernando’s name across my chest. Sharon hand-lettered the shirt for me.

The weather on race day was in the 60s and sunny, so I knew I had to ratchet back the pace. I ran a smart, respectable race, finishing in 3:48. I slowed to 9:00+ pace after mile 20, but didn’t walk. Having FERNANDO across my chest helped me. The crowds loved his name, and I was serenaded with “FERNAN-DOOOO” all along the course. Hearing this made me smile, and it fueled me. 

So was I actually helping Fernando in any way by running with his name on my chest? I had conflicting feelings about this. I stopped by his house later that day. I was pretty emotional, having just run the marathon with people screaming encouragement for him. I tried to convey to him what it felt like, mile after mile of people yelling support for HIM. I told him that he had a magical, musical, joyful name. (Especially in contrast to “Jeff” which has none of these qualities, as I learned at my first marathon.) Mile after mile of “GOOO FERNAN-DOOO,” bringing a smile to my face and helping power me through the tough times. I did my best to pour a fraction of that good will into him that day. 

I have worn the FERNANDO shirt in every marathon I’ve run since then. I hope that my doing so helped Fernando in some small way as he fought cancer. He died in January 2015. After that, the cheers of “Fernando!” clearly took on a new meaning. When I hear those cheers, Fernando lives on, running with me, running strong. He and I are bound in this special way. He supports me, and I support him. 


 


 

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