I promised in my previous blog post I’d share with you why I ran in a marathon I had no business running in that led to an increase in my own happiness.

I’m a Disabled Veteran with permanent, painful neuropathy in both legs and feet and I had no business running in the Walt Disney World Marathon.

In 1991, on my first deployment to the Persian Gulf, I broke my right foot in multiple places, and later, the same foot had to be re-broken to properly heal.

During recovery, a blood test revealed I had gangrene and amputation from the knee down was a real possibility.

Thankfully, powerful antibiotics worked. I got to keep my foot and leg, and I picked up a cool, new permanent limp.

Then in 2003, I had two surgeries to remove a Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus (MRSA) infection from the same foot. The Chief Surgeon told me to make final preparations because MRSA is aggressive and over seventy percent of individuals don’t make it. My gut told me everything would be okay, and I said, “Doc, you and your staff treat me like I’m the other thirty percent, because I have to get back to my ship on deployment and raise my son.” Again, I recovered, my limp more pronounced.

After I was honorably discharged, I returned to the East Coast. And the day I was fitted for shoe inserts at the Walter Reed Amputee Clinic changed me forever.

In the waiting room, surrounded by veterans missing arms and legs, I became aware how happy, upbeat, and engaged in conversation everyone was with the person next to them.

It was in that waiting room I made the choice to run in a marathon.

I was going to run for my dad, also a veteran, who died from cancer, and for all the men and women who ever wore a uniform who were unable to run now.

I discovered a group called Team in Training (TNT) that helps people train and participate in different athletic events while raising money for Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.

I was pumped and motivated.

Training was a struggle the entire time.

But the biggest challenge was running up hills. Knee surgery that had removed cartilage created tremendous pain that would only go away when I was on a downward slope or flat ground again.

One training day, I was scheduled to run 14 miles and it went longer than expected. The weather bad, the run rough, and one of the hills took longer than expected. I pushed through the pain up the hill, and at the bottom, a lone TNT Coach blocked my path.

He told me based on the time it took me to run to this point, I wouldn’t complete the actual marathon’s sixteen hour pre-established completion time.

I told the coach I was running in the marathon.

He raised his arms and said, “Then I take no further responsibility for you, and strongly recommend you do not participate in the marathon.”

I made it to race day, but on mile twenty-two my feet went flat, and my legs and feet were heavier than I’ve ever experienced. I hit the Runner’s Wall.

I was about to give up, when a man wearing a TNT Coach’s t-shirt ran alongside me. He asked how I was doing, and how I was holding up.

I told him, “Not good, I hit the wall and I think I’m going to stop.”

He asked, “So why are you running?”

I told him, “For my dad, and all the men and women in uniform who can no longer run.” And the oddest tingle washed through me when I said the words.

There was a shift, a drive to keep moving and I focused on the same thought, For my dad and all the men and women in uniform no longer able to run.

I turned to thank the coach, but he was gone. I looked behind me, each side of the road and further in front, but my mysterious coach, my guardian angel had disappeared.

This mantra stuck on repeat, fueled my body to keep running the remaining miles. And when I crossed the finish line, I looked up to the skies and said, “For you Dad, and all the men and women in uniform no longer able to run.” My body rippled with a joy and happiness that flooded every cell. And I ran the marathon in under thirteen and a half hours..

The coach who washed his hands of me came up to me to shake my hand to apologize he ever doubted me.

I wasn’t even mad Walt Disney World’s website said I finished as a 44-year-old woman. Because I made the choice to run a marathon, and when I couldn’t go on, I kept running, and the outcome of that choice brought me a happiness I carry with me to this day.