Every runner has a story. A reason that they started running, a reason why they love to run, and a reason why they continue to put their body through the tough miles race after race. Well, I am no exception. My story is what got me running eight years ago and why I continue to put one foot in front of the other, even during the toughest training runs and most painful races. My story taught me that running is a gift, and that it should never be taken for granted. You never know when this gift may be taken away from you…
My story started on January 16th, 2013. Before this date I had run a couple 5Ks, but had not yet gotten serious about long distance running. I often said that I would like to follow in my family’s footsteps and run a marathon one day. But when you are 18, just a few months away from graduating high school, and looking forward to starting a new adventure in college, training for a marathon is not a very high priority. However, this gloomy January morning changed my life forever.
My friend Lindsey (who is currently training for her first Garry Bjorklund Half Marathon!!) and I were on our way to school when my car hit a patch of ice and collided head-on with oncoming traffic. I distinctly remember the paramedic assessing me, still in my driver’s seat, saying “looks like you’ve got a busted up ankle young lady”. I was transported to the nearest trauma hospital where the paramedics suspicions were confirmed: compound fracture of the fibula, partial fracture of the tibia, and complete ankle dislocation.
This extensive fracture/dislocation left me with 12 hours in the Emergency Room to have my ankle reduced three times, two surgeries, a month in a wheelchair, three months on crutches, four months in a splint/walking boot, and six months of physical therapy. These long months left me wanting nothing else, but to have the ability to run. Once I got the initial okay to start putting weight on my ankle one of the first questions I asked my surgeon was, “when can I start running”. To which he laughed and said, “one step at a time, Rachel”. But eventually, my surgeon and my physical therapist gave me the okay to start running as long as I took it slow and really listened to my body.
Eight months of training flew by, before I knew it, I was standing toe to toe with thousands of other runners in Two Harbors on that wonderful June morning. The weather at Grandma’s Marathon 2014 was chilly, slightly misting, with a tailwind. Perfect conditions for most runners. In fact, this was the year that Dominic Ondoro set the course record. However, these conditions were far from perfect for someone with metal in their ankle and subsequent arthritis. Throughout the race my ankle was tensing up, causing my pace to be much slower than I had anticipated. Despite this, I knew that every single step towards the finish line was a gift. I could have been out on the course until sundown and it wouldn’t have mattered. I knew that less than a year and a half before this race, even just walking was a far off dream. And yet, here I was, running 26.2 miles for the first time.
I eventually made my way to Duluth. As I crossed the finish line, I looked down at the brace on my swollen ankle, threw my arms up in triumph, and smiled from ear to ear. At 19 years old, after my freshman year of college, 17 months after severely breaking my ankle, and only a little over a year since I was first allowed to put weight on my leg, I crossed that finish line in Duluth.
I often say that my running story is far from finished, that I am still in the beginning chapters. But I have learned how it feels to not even have the option to put one foot in front of the other. To have to literally reteach your brain how to walk properly. To not have the ability or even the option to run. My running story has not been easy. It started with a tragic event, included months of grueling work, and to this day, includes a great deal of physical pain. However, I know that I will never take even one step for granted. Running is a gift that not everyone is lucky enough to receive. I pray that even during the toughest training runs or the slowest races, I am able to remember how lucky I am to be out there, just putting one foot in front of the other.
Rachel Barger
Rachel is one of our Offical Grambassadors for the 2022 Grandma’s Marathon Weekend. Meet the rest of the ambassadors here.
Follower Her on: Instagram
Favorite Grandma’s Marathon Memory: JUST ONE?! This is a tough question, but I’d have to say Grandma’s Marathon 2014. This was my first ever marathon, after going to Grandma’s for years and watching my family members cross the finish line since I was a little kid. To make it even sweeter, this race came a year and a half after I was in a car accident that left me with a very shattered ankle. My orthopedic surgeon and physical therapists told me I may never walk without a limp again, let alone finish a marathon a year after my second surgery. After hearing this, I was even more determined to follow in my family’s marathoning footsteps. I trained through my freshman year of college, skipping the 10k, half marathon, and all other “less crazy” distances and went right for the full marathon. I will never forget the feeling I had crossing the finish line in 2014!!! And as they say… the rest is history. This was the start of MANY more amazing Grandma’s Marathon memories, and many more to come.
I won’t run outside if: It takes quite a bit, I’ve stocked up on running gear for all conditions (mostly because I despise the treadmill!). But maybe when there is too much snow for me to make it out of the driveway or if there’s a chance I’d get struck by lightning; I might make an exception.
Pre-Race superstition: I always cross the starting line on the far-left side of the chute, and I ALWAYS say the same little prayer as I am crossing that starting line.
2022 Running Goal: A 26.2 PR!!!