Running for a Cause: Lisa Smith-Batchen's Journey Across America (Part 3)

The woods are lovely, dark and deep. The flow of the cool water around her legs transported her away, far away, from Rockville, Maryland. The throbbing in her feet and calves gradually melted. She closed her eyes and she was home. Her husband and two daughters were standing in the hallway of their house in Idaho. Gabriella and Anabella ran to her with beaming faces as she knelt down and held out her arms to receive them. “I’ve missed you” she whispered. “We missed you, too, mommy,” they said as they buried their faces in her embrace. Jay came over and wrapped his arms around his family. She could have stayed this way forever. Right here. A perfect, happy moment.

When Lisa Smith-Batchen opened her eyes she was still standing in the creek. I have promises to keep. She stood still and listened to the sounds of the woods around her. There came the music of the gently babbling stream and, in the distance, the drawn-out, high-pitched call of a female Wood Duck. The wind stood still and Lisa listened to her own breathing. The day was now over, and it all came flooding back to her: you just ran another 50 miles. Suddenly, the pain returned full-throttle. “God,” she called out, and she plopped down listlessly. Miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.

The water was filthy, but she didn't care. It was a sweltering afternoon – quite unbearable, really. Her shirt clung to her body as the heat radiated across her salt-caked skin. But that wasn’t really what was getting her down at the moment. She was lost. She had already run 600 miles, and although she was done for today, Lisa had somehow missed the trail head to get back to the RV camper. She heard one of her crew say that they must have gone off course by about two miles. Two extra miles seemed like an insurmountable distance at the moment.

Looking down, she could see the wavering outline of her blue Crocs in the yellow-brown water. People had asked her why she ran in Crocs. To be honest, they were just really comfortable. She put an insole in them, wore two or three pairs of socks for padding and she was good to go. Comfy, indeed. But, right now, she might as well have been running in high heels, her feet hurt so much. She closed her eyes again and sat perfectly still in the muddy creek.

“You okay?” Mike Evan’s voice fell muffled on her ears. Her loyal friend, affectionately called Spud by the rest of the crew, stood watching from the rocky bank. Lisa could hardly bring herself to answer. Am I okay? Probably not, Mike. It was hard to see the silver lining. Things just weren't clicking. She wasn't getting into the groove of it. On top of that, it seemed Marshall had been wrong.

Her good friend, Marshall Ulrich, the Endurance King himself, had said she would need to be patient, that the first ten states would be especially tough. On the eleventh day, he informed her, she would fall into the routine of the journey and things would start to get easier. He should know; in 2008, at age 57, he completed his 3,000 mile run across America in just 52.5 days, breaking two transcontinental speed records. Marshall knew that at some point the body learns to adapt to what you put it through. When you run 50 miles a day, everyday, like Lisa was doing, your body needs time to process the abuse you are subjecting it to. Eleven days. That was the magic number. What the hell was the problem then? She hung her head in despair.

Maybe the training wasn’t enough. Lisa had built her entire training regimen around the eleven-day principle. To prepare for the project, all Lisa did was walk around her hometown of Driggs. She threw in some weekly workouts to strengthen her core, but she hardly did any running. Knowing that her body would eventually get used to running such a high daily mileage, she did not want to get into endurance-level shape prior to the start of her journey, only to be overtrained midway through and suffer some kind of overuse injury. Better to start off in good shape, but not in great shape, and gradually get fitter as the run progressed. In theory, she should have been in top physical form by now.

Did I mess up by not training harder? Lisa tossed that thought right out the window. She knew it wasn’t true. In reality, walking and core exercises were just the tip of the iceberg. Her whole life had been preparing her for this run. It honestly felt like she had spent her entire athletic career training for this. Thinking back to all the tears, all the sweat and blood of all her previous athletic endeavors, she realized a simple truth that filled her with a tremendous sense of courage: no matter what happened, she was and always would be Lisa Smith-Batchen. An obvious fact, sure. But there was profound comfort in it; in difficult situations, it helps to remind yourself who you are. Lisa knew what she was capable of. She was a person who loved deeply and was loved. Her power was within.

Yes, this was tough. And, yes, she was going to some dark places, emotionally. However, she had traveled across the barren landscape of dark human emotion before and she knew what to expect. Things would get better. Marshall was right. Patience is crucial. Persistence is key.

Yet, sometimes it is necessary to be flexible as well. Take the donuts for example. Starting off, Lisa had decided to keep true to her nutrition principles and eat only good, whole foods – things like avocados, tomatoes, and beans. She quickly realized that wouldn’t be enough. After adhering to her strict diet for a few states, Lisa realized she needed calorie-dense foods, high in fat and sugar, to fuel her body. At the sip of her first milkshake, she perked up immediately. When she bit into a glazed donut, it was like somebody was charging her up, like a car being filled with gas. People in each state would show up to run with Lisa, and when they saw her eating the sugary confections, word got around that she eats donuts and drinks milkshakes. Alert the press!

Soon people from all over, total strangers, were bringing her boxes and boxes of the fried goodies. Amusing as it was to be thought of by random people as some kind of donut junkie, the whole episode merely reinforced the flexibility principle: nothing is certain. Like life, running is not an exact science. The trick is to not let it throw you off. You have to take what's happening in stride, make the changes necessary, say positive, and keep going. Make lemons into lemonade, she told herself. The willingness to alter the way you are doing things, to modify your strategy when things aren’t going as planned, is such a key tenet for ultrarunners. Change is good. In fact, it's inevitable.

If things weren’t looking good right now, right at this moment, as Lisa sat in the Creek o’ Filth, she simply had to try and see things in a different light. The power was indeed within.

She thought of the children that she was running to raise money for. She thought of her family.

Get up.

She was done for the day. Another 50 miles down and she was closer now to her goal. Her dream of dreams was being actualized. Had she ever felt more alive than now?

Get up.

A joy filled her heart. Lisa couldn’t wait to get back to the RV camper and lay in her bed, down a milkshake, and get some rest. A donut sounded good. Two miles was nothing.

Get up.

She knew eventually would get up from the water and walk back to the RV. Her crew stood around, ready to tend to her needs. A few minutes passed. The sounds of nature floated all around her. She was at peace.

Slowly, quietly, Lisa rose to her feet.


This article is part of a series that will be published on a monthly basis. Stay tuned for more of Lisa's incredible story! Click here if you missed Part 1 and Part 2 of Lisa's story.

Running for a Cause: Lisa Smith-Batchen's Journey Across America (Part 2)

"Say something." The cameraman did one last sound check before he started recording. Lisa had never had so much media attention in her life. It seemed as if nowadays someone was always sticking a camera in her face. First, there was the Good Morning America show, and she was still scheduled to appear on CNN and plenty other news programs throughout the country, not to mention all the people who came out with their own camera equipment, wanting to get a picture with the woman running through America. Lisa looked around her. The cool light of the early morning augmented the feeling of unreality. The world seemed calm and tranquil, but her soul burned with such passion and excitement. She stood at the precipice, the beginning of something big.

Was she really standing here in Morristown, New Jersey, talking to the camera? Were all these people here to see her? Home was over 2,500 miles away now. The thought made her shiver slightly. She stuck her gloved hands in her jacket pockets.

"Why are you doing this," the interviewer asked her.

For a second, she was at a loss for words. Lisa couldn't process fast enough all the things she was feeling. She glanced over at Sister Mary Beth, dressed in her full black habit. She was busy talking with a group of people who had shown up to run. Part of the order of the Religious Teachers Filipini, Sister Mary Beth had to wear her black wool tunic and headpiece at all times, even while running. Lisa noted her friend's blue Pearl Izumi running shoes. The Running Nun. Lisa smiled to herself: it felt so good to know that Sister Mary Beth was with her, supporting her wholeheartedly. It filled her with resolve.

"I'm running for orphans all over the world," she told the interviewer.

Sister Mary Beth taught Lisa the incomparable joy of running for a purpose, running for a something besides personal gratification. Helping others became the motivating force behind her athletic endeavors; indeed, it was the driving philosophy of her daily life. People run for many different reasons. Some people run to lose weight. Others run for peace of mind. Lisa ran to help the less fortunate. All the money raised during this project would go to two charities: AIDS Orphans Rising and the Caring House Project. Her focus was on helping children.

Lisa thought of her own two daughters. Little Annabella and Gabriella. She imagined them asleep in bed right now. Soon they would be waking up to go to school. She wanted more than anything to be there to kiss them when they woke. It had crossed her mind to bring them along, but she felt it was important to maintain a stable atmosphere for them; her and her husband, Jay, had talked about it. They decided it was best not to disrupt their daughters' lives during this project any more than what was absolutely necessary.

In truth, she was also running with them in mind. When she envisioned their beautiful faces, she couldn't help but think of the thousands of children out there with no home and no one to look after them, no one to hold them when they got scared, no one to tell them how wonderful they are and how much they are loved. No one who cared. But, Lisa did care. She aimed to provide these children with food, clothing, shelter and educational opportunities. To give hope. This was her mission, pure and simple, deep and true.

It wouldn't be easy; she knew that much. It would be painful as hell.

One million dollars. That's how much money she wanted to raise. It was an ambitious goal, to be sure. Several people told her it couldn't be done. But, she had faith. She had thought about it long and hard. Some nights, months earlier, while her husband and kids slept soundly, Lisa tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. She kept turning the number over and over in her mind, feeling its contours like a stone in hand. Heavy. Solid. Smooth. One million dollars. It seemed so possible. Her logic was this: if she got the word out about her project to a million people, and each of those people gave just one dollar, she would reach her goal. Pretty simple. One dollar didn't seem like such an impossible thing to expect of people.

Lisa finished the interview and went to join her crew. Mike, Mary Ann, and Ashley were setting up supplies by the camper. It was time to start running. Everyone huddled around for a group prayer. Sister Mary Beth took her place next to Lisa. Everyone who showed up to run came together and stood silent. Gathered in a circle, they all bowed their heads and offered up their petitions. Family, friends, and even complete strangers united, hand-in-hand, on that chilly morning in Morristown. It was April 19, 2010. The sun was peaking over the horizon. It promised to be a beautiful day. With one last look around at all the new and familiar faces of the people who were making her dream come true, Lisa took the first step of her journey...

This article is part of a series that will be published on a monthly basis. Stay tuned for more of Lisa's incredible story! Click here if you missed Part 1 of Lisa's story and here for Part 3.

Running for a Cause: Lisa Smith-Batchen's Journey Across America (Part 1)

The foot was definitely broken. The doctor looked at it from every angle, applying slight pressure with his fingers at various points. She winced. "Does that hurt?" A no-brainer. The pain was radiant, brilliant and clear. Damned potholes. She had been talking casually with a group of people who were running with her in Plano, Texas, when her right foot suddenly rolled over. It was a really small pothole, too. But, it was enough to cause a break in the bone. They told her to stop running, but she couldn't entertain the thought. She just couldn't. She had come too far. And people were counting on her. The kids were counting on her. To stop would be to let them down, and she just couldn't do that. So they iced the foot and slapped an ankle brace on. That was over a month ago. 1,350 miles later, she was still running.

The good doctor's brow furrowed in concern. He looked truly doubtful. "I don't know, Lisa," he said. The foot was throbbing. "I just don't know." Here she was, on the night before her last run, and the orthopedist was giving her the bad news: she might not make it. But, Lisa wouldn't accept that.

"I don't know if your foot is going to last. So, when you see the finish, you just run like hell," he told her. "You give it all you have." Her journey was almost complete. Tomorrow would be her last day running.

Now, the wind whipped all around her. Lisa stood in the afternoon breeze. The sky was overcast. Not much farther. Just a few more miles to go. Just a few. Family and friends had come from all over to see her finish running 2,500 miles through America. That's 50 miles in each of the 50 states in 62 days. No other person on earth had ever accomplished such a feat. Lisa would be the first.

It seemed all of Driggs, Idaho, her hometown, had shown up for the event. It was a circus. People were cheering her name. Cameras flashed every which way. Onlookers honked their car horns. The local fire department had shown up, and they blasted their truck's siren. Even the weather wanted in on the party: the winds were absolutely torrential. Claps of thunder swelled in the threatening sky. "Look, Lisa," said Sister Mary Beth in an awed whisper, "God is bringing us home with a bang." Her good friend had always supported her and given her strength when she needed it most. Sr. Mary Beth's kind eyes brimmed with warmth and compassion. An accomplished athlete herself, the media dubbed Sr. Mary Beth Lloyd as "the Running Nun," but to Lisa Smith-Batchen, she was, and always would be simply "godmother." Lisa put on her shoe and stood up.

She started running. The pain was agonizing. The crowds emboldened her. But, there was something else that kept her going, something apart from the people and the cheering, something only she could hear - a voice, clear as crystal and serene as the sunset. A little voice that seemed to drown out all the noise of the wind and thunder. It told her everything was going to be okay and to keep moving. It made her feel so peaceful, so strong, like anything was possible. Anything. She had heard this voice before in her life, and each time she heard it, it filled her with such grace. It fueled her onward, through difficult times. It did so now. Each step came a little easier. It felt like she was walking on air, like the very wind was picking her up and lifting her to town and to the finish. Lisa was overwhelmed with emotion. Tears poured down her cheeks. Never in her life had she felt more loved than at this moment, right here and now.

Her husband and children were waiting for her at the finish. She could see her two little girls, Annabella and Gabriella, holding up the yellow ribbon finish line. She yearned to hold her daughters in her arms, to kiss and embrace her husband. She could see her family in the distance. Run like hell. Suddenly, the sun broke through the overcast sky and illuminated the scene. The brightness was exquisite. It brought Lisa's mind back to recollections of the long journey that brought her to this very point. As her community chanted her name, impelling her to the finish, Lisa's memory raced back in time...

Two months earlier, she was in a park in Morristown, New Jersey, about to embark on a long journey across the America. Her shoes were laced, and she was ready to start running.

This article is part of a series that will be published on a monthly basis. Click here for Part 2 of Lisa's story and here for Part 3.