Tragedy At The Boston Marathon: An Emeritus Runner’s Story

Fr. Dale Matson

Running is the last of the true amateur sports. It is a transformative experience for untold thousands of people including me. I was about 42 when I began walking a mile a day. I had been killing myself with cigarettes, alcohol and obesity. My first mile took 18.5 minutes and I thought I would have a heart attack.  I was middle aged and embarrassed to see myself as I passed by store security monitors. I bought the most cushioned shoes I could find to dampen the jarring of each footstep on asphalt.  For most marathoners, a marathon was not the original plan. The initial goal for me was to stop killing myself with self-destructive behavior. It began with walking a mile, then more miles. Then it was jogging a mile. Twenty years of cigarettes needed to be expelled from my lungs. Food became fuel and I thought how great it would be if I could run for an entire hour. Then my goal was to run for three miles under nine minutes per mile. I entered 5K and then 10K races. I finished in last place in my age group in my first 10K.

Then it occurred to me that a marathon was possible. I began training for a marathon using Jeff Galloway’s running book. I had gained running friends and lost weight. In 1991, a friend who trained with me and I drove up to Merrill Wisconsin for the American Odyssey Marathon. It was a hilly course and I had not trained on hills. By the thirteenth mile, I was walking as much as running. People yelled out to me as they passed by asking if I wanted a ride. One mile from the finish line, a thunderstorm came up and washed the finish line away. I went into a bar to ask where the finish line was and they said I had crossed it. I was the last finisher.

I could barely get out of my car when I arrived home. My wife of 21 years said upon greeting me, “Why do you do this to yourself?” It was such a proud moment for me and she could not take it away. We were divorced two years later. I moved to California and my new running group sustained me as I adjusted to a new job and a new life.

I continued to lose weight and finally got back to my high school weight. The Fresno running group made me faster. There were injuries along the way and solitary running until I healed. In 1994 I ran the California International Marathon. At 17 miles, I was at an 8:01 mile pace. As a 50 year old, I had to be at 8 minutes per mile to qualify for the Boston Marathon. At that point I decided that it was worth the risk. It was now or never. I finished in 3:29.  I ran Boston in the centennial year (1996), and again in 2001 and 2004. At Boston I was only ordinary as a runner.

Today, on this terrible day, I thought about the thousands of runners who were diverted from the course after the explosions and did not cross the finish line. My heart sank knowing that most of their stories were like mine. Boston is not really about elite world class runners. The Boston Marathon is about people like me who push themselves to their absolute limits just to be an ordinary Boston finisher. All other marathons are only qualifiers for Boston.

This story is for those residents and runners in Boston today. I know your story is similar. May God comfort those who mourn and give resolve to those who will do what it takes to finish on Boylston Street next year. While the horror of this year will not be forgotten, the eternal story of the Boston Marathon will always be triumph over suffering.        

Corrective Feedback As Consultation

Fr. Dale Matson

I recently offered some corrective feedback to a brother. One test of whether my feedback is authentic and not me just being a critical parent is how much it pains me to say it. If there is eagerness, then it is probably not necessary to say it. If it is not spoken in love, it probably should not be said either.

There is an additional event that will follow corrective feedback I’ve offered to others as sure as the sun will rise tomorrow. A brother will offer me feedback and that happened twice yesterday. My friend of over fifty years called to point out some things I could improve on with some Kindle Singles I had recently published. “Yes Phil, spell check does not catch the word break when I intended brake”. “Yes Phil I shouldn’t use a brand name that may be obsolete in five years which renders my example void.” Etc. Etc. Etc. He had lots of good things to say but…did I remember those things? Not so much.

Another brother of twenty years; a former colleague and I finally managed to get together after quite some time. I was quite annoyed with him since he seemed to be continually putting me off. Can’t friends find the time for one another? He told me in our two hour conversation that I had said some hurtful things to him. “You can push people Dale. Others feel that way about you too.” Ah yes, the sickening sense in the stomach signaling the truth of what he was saying. How often have I misused the gift of exhortation? “You’ve done a lot of things but we get tired of hearing about it.” Oops I guess he’s right again. I’m sorry Peter for hurting you. Please help me by telling me at the time so things don’t fester under the surface.

We all have blind spots and in the Johari Window there are things that others see in us that we are unaware of. That is why the Psalmist says, “Who can understand his errors? Cleanse thou me from secret faults.” (Psalm 19:12, KJV). The Holy Spirit does convict us from time to time also.

Many years ago I was given a job evaluation at a place where I worked at an entry level position. I walked in expecting to receive an employee of the year nomination. Instead the supervisors told me that no one wanted to work with me. I was considered by my coworkers to be a self-righteous S.O.B. I think one of my supervisors; John B. actually smiled as he delivered the bad news. I hope I have changed over the years partly in response to this. I hope being a priest doesn’t feed into that tendency and make it less visible to me.

The point of this is to say that our spouses, siblings and children, if we are fortunate enough to be blessed with them are the first in line as our consultants. After that, it is our brothers and sisters in Christ.

I was once told as I smoked a cigarette outside church, “You know Dale, Christ loves you exactly where you are at but he loves you enough not to let you remain there.” After much prayer, my will to quit emerged and about two years later, January 10^th 1983, I quit smoking.

Keep those consultations coming brothers and sisters. I think at age 66 there is still room for a tad more improvement. Amen.     

The Final Stage Of Life

Fr. Dale Matson
06-01-2011

“I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.” (Philippians 4:12, NASB).

I have entered what the developmental psychologist Erik Erikson referred to as the eighth and final stage of life. It is called Ego integrity versus despair. Each stage of life for Erikson holds a developmental challenge that must be mastered.

What is not generally considered is that old age does not present a singular final stage task. It requires the integration of all the tasks of the previous stages and the same questions answered at previous stages demand different answers in the final stage. Do I trust those around me? Am I a good person? Who am I? The answer to who I am as an adolescent is different than the answer to who I am as an older adult. I am no longer defined by professional affiliations and credentials. Many personal bests are behind me but I have found that there is a creative surge less limited by distractions, and informed by experiences. What I have to give is no longer material.

What saddens me is that many of my lifelong friends have stopped looking forward with optimism. There is an unnecessary cynicism, mistrust and guardedness. There is resentment about how things turned out. They have not made the good transition to old age. In some cases their vocations defined who they had become. Once retired, they began to shrink. It is not that they took a wrong turn as much as they stopped moving altogether. They stopped being engaged and initiating. They stopped being a grown up and became a victim.

They became hyperreflective and lost the battle of intimacy won in a previous stage. Their self-worth was based on their sense of productivity and the myth of personal power. Their perspective did not successfully expand to embrace the importance of a good word spoken at the precise time. They never came to understand the universe changing prayer of intercession. They are drawing down their account with no more deposits. Their depression is self-induced and fed with predictive certainty.

It does not have to be this way. Things can still be turned around. The final stage of life can be one of contentment. Yes, there is a loss of power, dignity, autonomy and productivity but as John the Baptist said, “He must increase but I must decrease” (John 3:30, NASB). For the Christian, loss is gain and dying is gaining eternal life. This life is not about us. It never was and never will be. Our final self; the finished product is Jesus Christ.

“I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.”(Philippians 4:13, NASB)