First
and foremost, my sister Lelania and I would like to thank all of the
pace leaders and members of Run/Walk 6. This year, you provided us with
invaluable training advice, constant support, and profound words of
wisdom along this journey of completing the LA Marathon; a journey that
began for my sister and I eight
years ago.
In 2006, my sister suffered
end-stage renal failure, and frankly, her life has never been the same
since. Without hesitation, I decided to become her kidney donor. Since
the transplant surgery in 2008, I am happy to say that my sister has
been blessed with great health, and an even greater sense of purpose in
life. This was the primary reason that we set a goal to run the LA
Marathon—together. We decided to partner with the OneLegacy Foundation,
to raise money and awareness of the importance of organ and tissue
donation.
Our plan for the marathon was to
train with the best group in town, the LA Roadrunners. As we approached
the big day, early forecast reports about the weather possibly being
hot during the race, were unsettling to both of us. Hydration for a
kidney donor like myself, and especially a kidney recipient, was of
eminent concern for our health and
safety during the course. Hence, we proactively prepared for the day.
Having participated in several marathons in the past, my job was to
coach Lelania during the race. We both agreed that it was tantamount to
stay with Run/Walk 6 for as long as possible on marathon day. Lelania
asked our friends and family members to station themselves strategically
at various mile markers along the course. Their mission was to not
only give us moral support, but they also agreed to supply us with a
replenishment of food, power gels, and Gatorade throughout the race.
Lelania also needed her daily dosages of medication, as well.
From
the start of the marathon, everything seemed fine. At first, our pace
was a little fast, but after a while we settled into a nice, comfortable
stride. Then, the unexpected happened. At around mile 4, right before
the big hill that approached Grand Ave., my
sister said that she felt a slight pop in her ankle, followed by an
acute tingling feeling throughout her lower, left leg. She instantly
made me aware of the occurrence, and I casually suggested that maybe she
should try loosening her shoelace. “Reggie, I’m loosing feeling in my
left leg,” she replied.
I selfishly thought
to myself, “Okay, I expected to start facing issues around the latter
portion of the marathon, but at mile 4? This is ridiculous!” Then, in
my head, I heard the mandate that my father, a hardnosed retired law
enforcement agent. The day before the marathon, his final words to me
were: “Whatever you do, Reggie, take care of your little sister. Run
with her the entire race, and don’t let her out of your sight.” The
concern of my father was expected. After all, not only did my sister
have some serious health concerns, but she is the youngest of his
four children, and his only daughter. In his eyes, she will forever
remain “daddy’s girl.”
Fearful of the
repercussions of not following my father’s instructions, I stopped dead
in my tracks and immediately started to survey my sister’s situation.
Lelania’s ankle didn’t appear to be swollen. She loosened her
shoelace, but to no avail. I quickly suggested that she try stretching
out her foot and ankle. She frantically complied. Meanwhile, we could
both see our group, run/ walk 6, drifting farther away. Eventually
Lelania started to panic.
Steadfast in my
objective, I continued to hurl suggestions at my sister, with hopes to
aid her possibly injured foot. At this point, my sister started yelling
at me, “Reggie, what do I do? I can’t feel my leg? WHAT DO I DO?”
Clearly my sister was having an anxiety attack.
To add insult to injury, she could barely hear my instructions. Her
iPod was turned up full blast, and I could hear the motivational music
as it blared from her headphones.
In an act
of pure desperation, I made the decision that the only alternative was a
dose of “tough love.” Throughout our lives, when faced with serious
adversity, I’ve realized that harsh reality is sometimes the only thing
that helps my sister to dig deep and tap into her own inner strength. I
snatched the ear buds from her ears, grabbed her by the shoulders, and
lovingly shook her a few times. “Calm down and listen to me,” I said.
“Either you are going to do this, or not. You need to make a decision
NOW! You didn’t train this long and hard to give up without a fight!”
Looking me square in the eyes, she calmly replied, “Okay. I’m going to
do this.” We both looked up.
By that point, Run/Walk 6 had disappeared into the massive sea of
runners. “I’m sorry, Reggie,” Lelania said to me with tears welling in
her eyes.
Eventually we started walking
again, at a drastically reduced pace. I tried to keep a close eye on
Lelania, as she continued to stop in brief spurts to stretch and massage
he ailing foot and ankle. “Let’s run,” she suggested. I though to
myself that perhaps things would be okay, after all. We started to run.
After a few strides, I turned around, and to my horror, my sister was
gone. In a few brief seconds, she had disappeared into the hazy mirage
of marathon runners. In a panic, I looked around for my sister, but she
was nowhere to be found. I immediately thought of my father’s plea to
me about not loosing sight of my sister. Left with no pace group, no
sister, and more than 22 miles to go, I was totally
devastated.
I checked my cell phone. There
were no messages or calls. This didn’t surprise me, because prior to
the race Lelania refused to carry a cell phone in her fanny pack.
Perhaps, in her mind, this would reinforce the importance of us sticking
together during the marathon. However, this small technicality made
the situation of losing my sister even more dreadful. What would I tell
my parents, namely my father, who were anxiously awaiting our arrival
at mile 12, near LaBrea and Sunset?
Somehow I
was able to catch up with the group at around mile 7. In spite of the
fact that my sister was somewhere lost in the madness of the marathon
crowd, brief conversations with members of Run/Walk 6 did help calm me
down. The pleasant distraction took my mind off the situation at hand,
and helped to assuage some of the guilt of leaving my sister
behind.
When I reached my parents, I
regretfully explained to them what had happened. They saw the look of
utter defeat and remorse on my face, and were surprisingly quite
understanding. At their advice, I agreed to press on and meet my older
brother and brother-in-law (Lelania’s husband) at the next rendezvous
point—mile 16.
When I arrived at mile 16, my
bother and sister’s husband revealed to me that they had received text
alerts (via the marathon’s runner tracking system) that Lelania, in
spite of her injured foot, was still moving. Astonishingly, she was
only about 30 minutes behind me. Needless to say, I was somewhat
relieved. I offered to wait for her, and actually remained at mile 16
for about 20 minutes. By then, the sun was blazing and the brief rest
was rejuvenating. Chris, my sister’s husband suddenly said to me,
“Reggie, this is
something that Lelania may have to do on her own. She’ll be okay. Our
friends and family members are all along the route to keep an eye on
her. You’ve got to keep going.” After receiving some security that my
sister was okay, I realized that needed to keep going, for us both.
The
rest of the race was grueling for my sister and I. The heat, at times,
was unbearable, and the virtual absence of Gatorade was unnerving. In
the end, I’m more than happy to say that Lelania and I were victorious.
After I crossed the finish line, I waited for my sister. I was elated
when I saw her limping towards me, with a shining medal around her neck.
After the race, while icing her still sore
left ankle, Lelania told me that the moment of “tough love” that we
shared, played a big part in what kept her going. In the words of
Lelania, “Reggie, when you told me
that I didn’t train for more than 6 months to give up without a fight,
the reality of the situation really kicked in for me.” My sister,
Lelania, has always been a fighter. She has never allowed anything to
stop her from pursuing her goals in life…not a failing kidney, not an
injured foot, not even a marathon. I am so proud of my sister for
finishing the LA Marathon. Most of all, I am overjoyed that this was
yet another obstacle that we got through in life—together.
To read about our personal organ donation story, and to support our cause, please log onto our website at: http://onelegacyfoundation.kintera.org/asicslamarathon/lelaniastephens
Reggie Coleman
Lelania Stephens
Lelania Stephens
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