The real purpose of running isn’t to win a race.
It’s to test the limits of the human heart.
~Bill Bowerman, track-and-field coach and co-founder of Nike, Inc.
As I was blasting through yet another of my six-mile runs down the rugged dirt-and-gravel roads of rural Hocking County in southeastern Ohio, the thought occurred to me, Ordinary people can accomplish extraordinary things! It came as no surprise to me that I should think this, as over the years of reading and studying, I had become a student of what I like to call “Positive, Possibility, Power Thinking.” I wasn’t necessarily an extraordinary runner, but I truly loved to run, especially long distances.
The brilliant rays of summer sunshine lit up the vapor that hangs low over open country fields in the early morning. I felt vibrantly alive, running strong, and then the thought hit me: I’ll run 52 marathons in 52 weeks to raise money and awareness for leukemia! The statement looped over and over in my mind as I finished the rest of my run, and I absolutely knew I could do it!
It had only been a few months since I had joined the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society’s national marathon training group called Team In Training. Not only was I trained to run a marathon, but I also had to raise money to help find a cure for leukemia, plus choose a marathon to run with the group. I chose the Honolulu Marathon. And to help every runner understand the brutality of this disease known as leukemia, we were each matched with a local leukemia patient. I was matched with a five-year-old boy named Glen. When I first met him, he looked like any other youngster. But as the months flew by, his health declined quickly. Despite undergoing a bone-marrow transplant from his older sister, which was then his best hope of recovery, the procedure was not successful. A little more than a year after I first met this healthy-looking little boy, his mom informed me that Glen had passed away. She told me that his entire family was around him, and she spoke the words to him, “Go to Jesus, baby.”
Already stoked by the fires of my “Positive, Possibility, Power Thinking” life philosophy, little Glen’s passing was like pouring gasoline upon a bonfire. The flames of my passion and commitment to run 52 marathons in 52 weeks burned brighter and hotter. I had worked for 16 years as a disc jockey at WHOK-95.5FM in Lancaster, Ohio, and I was a super healthy, wild and crazy bachelor. My lifestyle was ideal for me to head off into the unknown to pursue something that many people described as crazy.
Weeks and then months passed as I started to up my weekly running miles and intensity. I began to do at least one 20-mile run every weekend so that my body would become accustomed to going that kind of distance. On every run, the fire to accomplish this gargantuan running feat burned brighter and hotter within me.
This was the mid-1990s, and the Internet was in its infancy. In order to set up my sponsorship, find officially organized marathons to run, and arrange lodging and travel plans, it was all phone calls, faxes, press releases, and a lot of chutzpah. Many nights, I would fall asleep after a long day of running, working, and tirelessly promoting what I called my “Super Run for the Cure.”
Finally, it was time to run, and I loaded Bo, my Golden Retriever, into my car. I locked the door to my home in Hide-A-Way Hills, Ohio, and headed to Cleveland to start my run at the 1996 Cleveland Marathon. It was the perfect start to my year of running since Cleveland was my hometown, and my parents still lived there. Cleveland would be where Bo would live over the next year with my parents.
I finished the Cleveland Marathon in a little more than four hours, feeling great. But then the thought hit me on the drive back to my parents’ house, Whoa! I have to do this 51 more times!
As the weeks, months and miles flew by during my Super Run, I ran across almost all of North America, including the continental U.S., Alaska, Canada, and Hawaii. I drove 65,000 miles in my trusty SUV, and flew 60,000 miles to complete my year of marathoning for a cure. I ran a trail marathon around the Kilauea volcano on the Big Island of Hawaii; a marathon on a track in Dayton, Ohio (104 1/2 laps); on the streets of Montreal; through the rain of Olympia, Washington; and finished up with number 51 being the Holy Grail of Running — the Boston Marathon. I concluded with number 52, the Big Sur Marathon in Carmel, California. I raised thousands of dollars for leukemia research along the way. I also spent thousands of my own dollars to make it all happen. And on yet another 14-hour drive by myself through the heart of America on my way to run yet another 26.2-mile race, I would say to myself with all the intensity I could muster, “I can do this!”
Although to date they have yet to find a cure for leukemia, the rate of remission for most leukemia patients is better than ever, and I know that I played a small part in this. With a burning passion and the ability to do so, I truly learned that ordinary people can accomplish extraordinary things. From May 5, 1996 to April 27, 1997, I unleashed my inner champion to successfully run 52 marathons in 52 weeks to help find a cure for leukemia. And I thought about that five-year-old boy the whole way.
— Karl W. Gruber —