This is the story of two everyday Virginia girls who lead normal lives and thought they might be able to do something to help someone else while they were at it. It’s a simple story, but it’s mine. My name is Christina.

Among several other life-altering and nearly impossible aspirations, one of my top-10 lifetime dreams has been to run a marathon. So, you may ask, why run 26.2 miles? What’s the draw? Perhaps because I come from a family of runners, and my father has run marathons (finishing one in 2 hours, 41 minutes), and I liked to think I could do it, too. Or perhaps the original marathoner, Pheidippides, back in fifth-century-B.C. Greece, made it look cool. (Actually, Pheidippides died at the end of his run—not quite what I had in mind.)

For my good friend, Sandi Wilbur, and me, running a marathon was the chance to fulfill lifelong dreams and do some good in the meantime. As always, God’s provision exceeded our expectations.
In June 2008, Sandi asked if I’d train for a marathon with her. She planned to run only one marathon in her lifetime, so she had chosen the race carefully. Forget normal marathons—she wanted to do “the most scenic marathon in the U.S.,” which was the claim of the Mount Desert Island Marathon in Maine. Never mind that it was considered technically more challenging than the Boston Marathon. Sandi was out for scenery, so scenery it was.

We started training. The Internet provided any number of training guides and tips, and Sandi and I pieced together programs suitable for each of us. Trips to the VA Runner shop provided us with shoes and other paraphernalia as we geared up to be “real athletes.” Sandi introduced me to the lifesaving technology of GU energy gels, while I tried to sell her on the unmatchable virtues of ibuprofen. Sandi carried a liter of water in a Camelbak and would share with me as the going got tough. Our training schedule during the week included runs around our respective neighborhoods, downtown, the gym, area parks and hiking trails. Once a week, we would meet up for a longer training run. The camaraderie helped the miles pass faster.

As our training increased, Sandi and I started talking about using our marathon run to raise money for a good cause. I had seen races to benefit leukemia and breast-cancer societies. As we contemplated our options, an idea came to me. Instead of running to raise money for some big organization, why not a more personal and close-to-home cause? So we decided to start a fund to help complete a medical clinic for an under-served population in the Philippines. We talked with our church treasurer, and he was more than happy to help with our plan. The Marathon Medical Clinic Fund was born, and we set about making our dream come true.

It just so happened that the particular under-served Philippine population is the Palawano people among whom my parents serve as AFM missionaries. The clinic we were raising money for was their mission hospital.

When I emailed my parents to tell them about our plan, they were thrilled at the prospect of finally being able to finish their much-needed medical clinic—a 600-square-foot building with tin roof, plywood floor, solar electricity, running water and room enough for in-patients and exam rooms. They had started building this
clinic about two years earlier with $5,000 donated through another church. The clinic was half-finished. Another $5,000 would allow it to open for patient care. (My parents have been operating their clinic and serving thousands of patients in a 100-sqare-foot bamboo-and-thatch hut for the past 12 years, without any budget for facility upgrades.)

Sandi and I put together a presentation for our Sabbath School class at the Fredericksburg Adventist Church. We sent letters to friends and family saying, “Hey, sponsor us for our marathon, and all the money goes to an overseas medical clinic.” Cool, right? A lot of our friends and family thought so. We received comments like, “This is the first project I’ve ever really wanted to donate to.” One person told us, “I picked up a blank check on the way out the door, and I didn’t know why. Now I do!” Wow, praise God! The money started coming in, and our eyes got really big. Sandi was so excited that she upped our fund-raising goal from a measly $1,000 to the entire $5,000! I thought she was crazy, but why not try? We had nothing to lose.

As pledges and donations continued to roll in, we got ourselves together for the big day and traveled to Maine. It was gorgeous, just like Sandi had said. Forests bedecked in autumn colors, lakes, the ocean, mountains and lots of moss, which I love. Our big day, October 19, dawned bright and clear . . . and cold! We reached the starting line moments before the crack of the starting gun. As we trotted out to make personal history, Sandi smiled and chatted with other contestants while I focused on running. Around mile 21, the smiling Sandi swept past me. I stifled the urge to call after her to hold her horses and wait for me. I was really jealous that her legs were working
better than mine at that point. I limped through the last few miles. As I rounded the last bend and the end came into view, a wave of emotion washed over me. I almost burst into tears as I crossed the finish line. I had completed one of my life-altering, nearly impossible dreams. Epic moment. Exhausted but triumphant, Sandi and I rode the bus home, took showers, ate supper and hobbled to bed. We could hardly walk the next day, but we were happy cripples!

Just a few weeks ago, our faithful treasurer dropped us a line updating our tally of donations—over $4,300. We were amazed. God had really blessed more than we expected. Being so close to our $5,000 goal, though, I hated to close down the account and send the money. As I was contemplating what to do, I opened my email and found a note from a missionary friend and her husband in Chile. “Looks like you need about $700 to reach your goal. Consider it done. We’ll get the check in the mail this week!” I called Sandi at work with the amazing news and then woke my mom (3 a.m. in the Philippines). “You can build your clinic now!” I told her. “God brought in all the money.” Looking over the donations, she was moved nearly to tears by peoples’ generosity. These were sacrifices in a time of economic turmoil from people who realized that God’s work must go on. We are all still praising God as we see how He honored our efforts and provided for the needs of a little missionary project way out in the Philippine Islands.
For those of you who were a part of this: Thank you so much. You don’t know how much joy you have brought to our hearts and how many Palawano lives you have saved. Thank you.

P.S. Since Sandi is sticking with her plan to run only one marathon, I’ve lost my running partner for the Mount Desert Island Marathon 2009. Any takers?

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