If you were a 78 year old nun would you compete in an Ironman triathlon? No, this question is not rhetorical. Enter Sister Madonna Buder, a 78 year old Roman Catholic nun from Spokane, Washington. If you are like me, you are sitting there expecting a punch line, but I assure you this woman is real and her story is one for the ages.According to Wikipedia, Sister Madonna has completed over 200 triathlons including thirteen Ironman Triathlons. She is the oldest woman to ever complete Ironman Hawaii, the world triathlon championships. Christi and I learned of Sister Madonna while in Penticton for 2008 Ironman Canada. We were told that a 78 year old nun would be competing in the race this year, and this was not her first rodeo.
Although the day was filled with a plethora of stories of perseverance, tenacity, and iron will, Sister Madonna stood out as the crown jewel.
Christi and I shivered, standing on the bleachers at the finish line. It was 11:40pm, and it had been raining for hours. The cutoff time for the race is 17 hours and it was a mere 20 minutes away. There was a surprising number of people still crossing the finish line, people of various shapes and sizes and in various degrees of distress. At 11:50pm over the loud speaker, the announcer mentioned a name that I had forgotten in all of the excitement. "Sister Madonna is approaching the 25 mile mark of the marathon folks, she's struggling and really needs our support," even now, as I sit here typing this I can feel the response of the hundreds of fans surrounding the finish line in the cold, pouring rain. There was an instant uproar of cheers, clapping, whistling, and banging of whatever we could make noise on. Hundreds of people just poured every ounce of there energy into helping Sister Madonna finish that last mile before the 17hr cutoff. A shiver ran down my spine, causing the hair to stand to attention on my arm, and it had nothing to do with the cold.
At 11:53pm, the announcer went into a inspiring story of announcing Sister Madonna to the finish line with 30 seconds remaining at Ironman Hawaii 2 years prior. He spoke with an unmistakable level of pride when describing the event and her perseverance.
As the minutes ticked away and the rain continued to fall it became less and less likely that Sister Madonna was going to cross the finish line under 17 hours. 11:57, "Come on everybody, Sister Madonna needs our support, she has a little under 1/2 a mile to go" the throngs of fans were sent into an uproar once again.
Unfortunately, the clock struck midnight and the carriage of hope was turned back into a pumpkin. Sister Madonna had not crossed the line in time, she was still out there, struggling to put one foot in front of the other. Lets not forget that she has been in a perpetual state of forward movement for the last 17 hours. Just then, out of the darkness Sister Madonna appeared, her legs resembled a new born fawn while her upper body was contorted in a state of horizontal complexity. She was hurting, bad. As the magnitude of Sister Madonna's distress passed through crowd like the wave at an NFL game, the cheers reached a record level. The announcers words were rendered inaudible by the screaming onlookers.
Sister Madonna crossing the finish line at 17 hours and a couple of seconds, in the pouring rain and in considerable pain will be etched in my mind for a very long time. Anytime I think the discomfort of training is too much, whenever I want to take it 'easy', if the time ever comes that I want to quit, I will think of that cold August night. Sister Madonna is an inspiration.
Christi and I shivered, standing on the bleachers at the finish line. It was 11:40pm, and it had been raining for hours. The cutoff time for the race is 17 hours and it was a mere 20 minutes away. There was a surprising number of people still crossing the finish line, people of various shapes and sizes and in various degrees of distress. At 11:50pm over the loud speaker, the announcer mentioned a name that I had forgotten in all of the excitement. "Sister Madonna is approaching the 25 mile mark of the marathon folks, she's struggling and really needs our support," even now, as I sit here typing this I can feel the response of the hundreds of fans surrounding the finish line in the cold, pouring rain. There was an instant uproar of cheers, clapping, whistling, and banging of whatever we could make noise on. Hundreds of people just poured every ounce of there energy into helping Sister Madonna finish that last mile before the 17hr cutoff. A shiver ran down my spine, causing the hair to stand to attention on my arm, and it had nothing to do with the cold.
At 11:53pm, the announcer went into a inspiring story of announcing Sister Madonna to the finish line with 30 seconds remaining at Ironman Hawaii 2 years prior. He spoke with an unmistakable level of pride when describing the event and her perseverance.
As the minutes ticked away and the rain continued to fall it became less and less likely that Sister Madonna was going to cross the finish line under 17 hours. 11:57, "Come on everybody, Sister Madonna needs our support, she has a little under 1/2 a mile to go" the throngs of fans were sent into an uproar once again.
Unfortunately, the clock struck midnight and the carriage of hope was turned back into a pumpkin. Sister Madonna had not crossed the line in time, she was still out there, struggling to put one foot in front of the other. Lets not forget that she has been in a perpetual state of forward movement for the last 17 hours. Just then, out of the darkness Sister Madonna appeared, her legs resembled a new born fawn while her upper body was contorted in a state of horizontal complexity. She was hurting, bad. As the magnitude of Sister Madonna's distress passed through crowd like the wave at an NFL game, the cheers reached a record level. The announcers words were rendered inaudible by the screaming onlookers.
Sister Madonna crossing the finish line at 17 hours and a couple of seconds, in the pouring rain and in considerable pain will be etched in my mind for a very long time. Anytime I think the discomfort of training is too much, whenever I want to take it 'easy', if the time ever comes that I want to quit, I will think of that cold August night. Sister Madonna is an inspiration.
2 comments:
This is exactly how I felt at that finish line!! You have great writing and perfect descriptions. When I read this it makes me want to be there again. I feel inspired to always push through the pain and do more.
Wasn't it great! I hope we never forget that moment.
You're the best wife ever.
e
Post a Comment