4th of July Freedom Run

In planning our family vacation to Colorado over the 4th of July, I felt I had to search for a race to run on the 4th. How could I pass up such a patriotic run?  The Freedom Run in Evergreen, CO, only minutes away from where we were staying, seemed to be the best choice.


On the morning of the 4th, my dad took me into Evergreen, over 8,000 ft elevation...much higher than what my lungs are used to, but I was ready.  I mean, really, I had just completed a marathon 2 weeks prior, right?  He dropped me off at the start site, which differed from the finish area, then went down to the finish to meet the rest of the crew.  I signed up, put on my number, found a kind lady with a stroller to carry my shirt, and walked to the start line.  It was a big race, one of the biggest on the 4th in the state of Colorado, apparently.  There were over 600 runners/walkers.

I began unfurling Old Glory and a man approached me who was volunteering that day.  He smiled as he said, "I'm so happy to see that you are carrying the flag!  Every year for this race it has been my tradition to carry the flag, but this year I had decided to volunteer, so thanks!"  He gave me some pointers about the course and said, "See you at the finish!" There were quite a few who asked me, "Are you going to carry that the whole way?"  "Yes, I am."  I would respond. (thinking to myself, if only they realized I had just carried it 26 miles 2 weeks ago)  One little red-haired boy, in particular, asked me that same question as he looked up at me.  I answered him and he said, "wow!" thought about it for a couple of seconds, then went on his way.  He was so cute!

The race director began explaining the course to all the runners.  He said don't be fooled by the downhill first mile.  There is a couple of nasty hills before the final descent to the finish.  "Ok", I thought, "I can do this.  The gun went off and so were we.  Downhill was right!  We were in the Rocky Mountains...what else would there be?  Along the course, there was a man playing bagpipes, men playing guitars, a whole choir singing patriotic songs, and quite a few spectators along the way, many holding flags and banners.  The scenery was incredibly gorgeous!  What do you expect from the Rockies?  I want to thank the photographer, Cheryl Newhall, for donating the photos taken at the race. (Who, by the way, also served, and was happy to see the flag flying!)  Nearing the end, I could hear the announcer and music playing.  By this time, I was gasping for air...I counted 3 big hills, not 2...but I did it!  (there is video of the finish)

Many people thanked me for carrying the flag, and as always I respond by saying I am honored to do so.   The finisher's area was quite the party.  There was food, booths, live music, a balloon animal maker, and of course, a jump castle.  A couple came up to me to tell me they really liked my shirt, especially the back, which reads, "One nation under God".  They explained to me that just a week ago or so, NBC was broadcasting the Masters golf tournament.  They had put together this beautiful montage of photos from around the nation which were shown in a slide show format to the words of the Pledge of Allegiance. That sounds very nice, except they purposely left out the words, "one nation under God".  Well, that made a few people mad, as it should, and they apologized the next day.  See what we can do if we stand up?  My hope with every race I do, is to find people who "stand up"; people who are thankful to live here in the US and who are willing to fight to keep it the way it should be.  I have hope.  It seems when I find these people, these patriots, it's a unanimous feeling of gratitude.  Whatever it is that makes these people cheer, clap, chant, comment, or salute as the flag passes them, seems to affect everyone positively in similar ways.  Imagine... One nation united under God...I can.

"The crew"

Grandma's 35th Marathon (Part 2)

     We had shed the garbage bags a couple of miles into the race.  Thankfully, the wind was at our backs most of the way...that comes in handy when carrying a flag ☺ Though, if the wind changed from side to side, the flag had a way of mummifying me.  Not a problem, I just kept running as I unwrapped.  Temperatures seemed fine as long as you didn't stop.  Once stopped, you felt the chilly wind coming off of the lake, once chilled, it was hard to get the warm back.

Coming to mile 17-18 brings the runners into Duluth, where there are more spectators, even on a day when it is upper 40's with a chilly breeze.  The man from Atlanta had caught up with me.  He was checking up with me, sort of like a father-figure I guess you could say.  He asked, "How are you feeling'?" I answered, "Like I've been running with a flag for 18 miles, I'm finally tired, but I'm still smiling!"

The energy level rises whenever there are people cheering on the sidelines.  I heard people shouting, "Go America!" & "Go USA!"  as I passed.  Some were holding flags themselves.  People seemed to know me.  "There she is!  It's the flag girl!  The American girl!  You made it!  We've been waiting for you!"  What really threw me was people knew my name, who I didn't know.  "Go Jean!"  I heard several times.  I'd take a quick glance, smile, and say "thanks!"

Running with my husband, Dan

Seeing my husband around mile 20 brought tears to my eyes...he has a way of bringing out my emotions.  I was at a point where I was pretty tired, yet so elevated that I had made it that far.  It was a happy cry, and a quick one.  I found it difficult to cry and run at the same time.  He ran with me for about a mile and got to experience what it was like to escort the flag down a path of exuberant young volunteers during a water stand.  "U-S-A...U-S-A!" they would shout as they held out their hand for a high five while the flag was held high in the other hand.  There is just something to be said for a large crowd chanting in unison, especially when they are shouting for something you're doing...I just couldn't stop smiling!

Dan, my husband, ran with me until we came to my biggest fan club, my family.  My parents had made a surprise visit.  I had to make a quick stop for a kiss & a hug for them!  So good to see them!  My friend had made a large poster that my kids & cousins were holding that read, "Go Jean!  You can do it!  Thank you Vets!"  Then...they picked it up and ran with it!  It was awesome!

There is a hill around mile 22 known as Lemon Drop that anyone who has ran Grandma's knows of.  I had to walk a few times before then because I knew at the top there was going to be a photographer, Paul Walsh,  clicking away. One of the shots he captured is my profile picture...thumbs up and a big ol' smile!  I wanted to run up that monster.  It was almost as if the flag carried me up that hill.  You could tell all the runners around me were pretty tired...it was quiet between crowds of people.  But it was during those moments when I experienced such powerful messages.  There was an elderly woman who had been sitting in her car, in her driveway, watching the marathon.  When she saw the flag coming, she got out, hobbled to the front of her car and clapped ever so softly, yet her patriotism rang out loud and clear.

At times I felt like an Olympian passing groups of college kids.  They'd be lined up with beer in one hand, and an empty hand held out in high anticipation of a high five from the "Flag Girl".  I've never been to the Olympics, but I imagined that this is how it would have felt as one of the athletes.  "U-S-A! U-S-A!" at the top of their lungs.  Flag held high...not feeling any tiredness or pain at the moment, just pure exhilaration!  At the end of the college line, a young man ran alongside me.  He had a beer in one hand and he was holding his pants up with the other.  He said, "That is so cool that you are running with the flag!  Wanna beer? "  I kindly said no thank you.  (keep in mind he is still running beside me) Then he said, "well, I'd better go now cuz my pants are falling down."  I said, "Okay, thanks!"  What more do you say to that? That gave me a chuckle for the next mile for sure!

About 1 mile to go!

Coming into downtown Duluth gave strength to a tired mind.  Every time I raised the flag, the crowd got louder.  That's what I was after.  The pure love for their country.  My husband, friend & uncle made it to downtown to be apart of the cheering crowd.  At mile 24, I was ready to see that finish line.  About 1 mile away, we ran under a bridge which had people on it.  Again, "U-S-A...U-S-A!"  Plus some cow bells, got en grained in my head.  

Finally, I rounded the corner to the finish line.  Ahhhh!  Raising my hands in the air, I was so grateful to have finished!  So grateful to be done!  Making my way through the finish line into the runner's area, many asked, "Did you run the whole way with that?"  "Yep" ☺ "Wow"...   

Finish line in sight

     A man stood next to my husband, asking me questions, like, "How do you feel? Are your legs sore?  Did you carry it the whole way?"  Then he thanked me.  He told us he was a vet and appreciated what I had done.  He then asked to have his picture taken with me.  I was honored and thanked him for serving.   ~    Then a man from Germany, who had run the race, also was curious as to what I had done.  He said, he didn't believe that Americans really knew how good they have it.  He had come here many years ago from Germany with not much money, not much of anything.  Yet, he was able to make something of himself.  Something he could not have done in his country.  He thanked me and went on his way.     ~      My adventure wasn't quite over.  I headed over to the place to pick up our bags.  Apparently, I was shaking so badly, the worker told me to wait there, she was getting a medic.  So, for 20 minutes or more, I was warmed up in the medic tent due to suffering hypothermia.  The nurses there, unfurled the flag, took my picture with my phone, then rolled it up and laid it beside me.  Fitting, right?  I carried it 26 miles, and it lay by my side until I was well enough to return home.  I help my country, and my country will help me... maybe it's a stretch, but I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

Grandma's 35th Marathon (part 1)

     The race began and we were off.  I needed to hold the corner of the flag for the first few miles so it wouldn't flap somebody in the face.  When there is that many people running, it stays pretty crowded for several miles.  Now if you can picture the excitement of thousands of people, most of which were wearing garbage bags, finally getting to start their goal they've been working toward for four months.  Can you hear it?  No Blue Angels this year due to the weather.  Just the shuffling of many, many sneakers on pavement with plastic swishing, and a few shout-outs as we left the start area.  I noticed a woman looking on wearing her military outfit watching the flag as is passed.  I thought, "yep, this is for you!"

One of the first runner's to talk to me, was a man from Atlanta.  He was curious, as so many were, why I was carrying the flag, how I had trained for it, and if I had done this before.  He thought it was pretty cool, thanked me, and wished me luck.

Another man, who had run 13 marathons, caught up with me.  We chatted for a few miles.  He asked the same questions, and was especially curious how I was going to solve the problem of not using my arms like I normally would without the flag.  The arm swing is a crucial element of running, especially long distance running.  I told him that I simply alternate hands with the flag every mile or so.  Then told me how his past experiences have been with so many marathons.  He'd run Grandma's before and knew exactly where the  "Elvi" were which we were quickly approaching.  Anyone who had ran Grandma's knows what I am talking about.  There are always more than one Elvis in a group somewhere before mile 13.  There is, of course, Elvis music accompanying these wonderful performers.  Any way to get marathoners to get their mind off of any negative thoughts (like the distance still ahead or pain they might be experiencing) is a welcome sight!

The first 17 miles are pretty slim as far as spectators, simply because it is not easy to get to these locations along the route.   The weather certainly didn't help!  But, when there were people, they were cheering, clapping, giving out high-fives, holding signs, ringing cow bells...it was a refreshing sound and sight.

It seemed that as one person would leave my side after a nice chat, another would slide in.  I welcomed the conversation.  What wonderful people they all were!  Otherwise, all that is heard for those first 17 miles is the shuffling of feet on asphalt, and in this case the waves of the lake, once in a while.  So picture this, try to visualize about 50 runners around you, all so very focused on their big goal, and the only thing breaking the silence of the beautiful North Shore nature is a hundred feet all around you shuffling on the road.  Then, a spunky young gal came up alongside me.  She had headphones on with her music pretty loud.  She raised her hands to give me a double thumbs-up and shouted, "I THINK IT'S SO GREAT WHAT YOU ARE DOING!  THAT'S AWESOME!"  I gave her a thumbs-up back and kept running as did she.  That kept a smile on my face for quite a while.

It seemed anyone that passed me, thanked me.  Some mentioned to me that they were vets themselves and really appreciated my gesture.  Others who passed just thought it was just plain cool!  Some had seen the news report on TV.  A Canadian man shook my hand and thanked me for running for America.  He thought is was pretty cool I'd do that for my country.

Maybe around mile 10 or so, there was a group with megaphones, announcing how all of us runners need to repent and give our lives to Jesus.  How we can all have a clean slate with Him.  Now, I'm a Christ follower, but I don't know that this was the appropriate time or place to be telling these people, who were trying to run 26 miles and focused on other things, to repent and change their ways.  A girl who was running with me, said to them, "I don't feel like being preached too!"  I guess I couldn't blame her.  My feeling is that, if Jesus were there, he would have been cheering us on to accomplish our goal, and loving each of us as he did it.  One of the megaphone people shouted, "Did you know that someone died for you?"  In no disregard to Christ, I felt like saying, "Did you know that more than one person has died for us! That's why I'm carrying this flag!"  But I didn't...I just kept running.

Around mile 15 or so, I had passed a man dressed as Uncle Sam.  He had something posted on his back referring to a political opinion.  He had a wig and hat plus a red, white and blue vest with matching shorts.  Once I was ahead of him, I heard him say, "I want YOU to marry ME!  You're my girl!"  I answered, "I'm taken, sorry!"  And kept running... it did make me smile, though.  I mean, how often do you get proposed to while running??

About a mile later, out of the silence I spoke of before, I heard in song format, "There she is...Miss America!"   It turned out to be a retired champion boxer by the name of Zach Walters.  We talked for about a mile or two.  He told me how he had just retired, but might want to box some more because he loved it so much, so for now, he wanted to run a marathon.  He was intrigued to learn that my grandfather, Francesco Montanari, was the welterweight champion boxer of Italy, Spain & France.  You just never know what you might have in common with random people around you.  One thing we do know is that in the USA, we are all united with FREEDOM!

As we approached Duluth, spectators who were sitting, silently stood, removed their hats, and covered their hearts.  If they were in uniform, they saluted.  No one asked them to do so, they chose to, without calling attention to themselves, just for the sake of being grateful for what this flag represented.  This single gesture is what gave me goosebumps more than anything.  So humbling. So wonderful.  I couldn't wait to find what lay in store in the remaining of the race...