My Obsession With Running

"The obsession with running is really an obsession with the potential for more and more life." - Dr. George Sheehan



I love running and when I am not running, I spectate or I volunteer or share in the accomplishments of my running friends on Facebook. I have devoured books about running, runners biographies, the history of the Boston Marathon and have two more in queue after I finish reading Johnny Kelley's "Young at Heart." I read on line articles about running.

My obsession with running began after I wrote the poem "Running the Race" as I sat in a leg brace, using a wheelchair for mobility at times and feeling the worst in mind, body and Spirit that I ever felt in my life.

Running did not and does not come easily to me. The first time I ever ran for 30 seconds, at the age of 54 years old, shortly after coming out of my leg brace, my heart rate soared over 170.

For a moment I believed that I had no business running when I ran the Marathon Sports 5 Miler in July of 2008 as I began training for the 2009 Boston Marathon. But Tom and my Marathon Sports family gave me the boost I needed to believe in myself as a runner.

Running is in my soul now.

My heart breaks for that little 5 year old, when I think back to when I was in a full leg brace after contracting paralytic polio and desperately trying to keep up with my brother and my friends.

Running is my form of redemption.

When I crossed the finish line of the 2009 Boston Marathon, it was a moment bigger than I was yet it was also my personal moment of redemption.

A few weeks ago, I was obsessed with seeing if I could achieve a PR at the Bill Rodgers 5K Run/Walk to Benefit Prostate Cancer. Talk about a moment of redemption and experiencing the fullness of my life after taking a detour off my healing path in 2011. What a blessing to be able to inspire others to move beyond a diagnosis or a condition and see what they are capable of doing when put to the test on and off the roads.

I am training for the Tufts 10K and am eager to see what this body can do on race day. After Tufts it's training for the Feaster Five on Thanksgiving Day.

The sport of running is one of the only sports I know of where you can stand shoulder to shoulder and run on the same road as the running greats. I have been blessed to receive support, encouragement and advice from Bill Rodgers, Frank Shorter, Greg Meyer, Dave McGillivray and the inspirational Hoyts just to name a few.

There is an energy in the running community that is the energy of life itself. My obsession with running was borne out of a time in my life when I faced a grim diagnosis of post polio syndrome, a progressive neuromuscular condition. It has become my therapy, my medicine and the vehicle for bringing me from the precipice of decline to the fullness of my life.





"Wait, I have one more goal," Mary McManus told her personal trainer in February of 2008 shortly after coming out of her toe up leg brace. "I want to run the Boston Marathon for Spaulding Rehab Hospital." Mary traded in her polio shoes for running shoes and embarked on the journey of a lifetime. Mary McManus was at the height of her career as a VA social worker when she was told by her team at Spaulding Rehabilitation Hospital’s International Rehab Center for Polio in December of 2006 that she needed to quit her job if she had any hope of preventing the progression of post polio syndrome, a progressive neuromuscular disease. In “Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility” Mary takes you on her seven year healing odyssey as a survivor of paralytic polio and trauma from her diagnosis, to taking a leap of faith to leave her award winning career at the VA to heal her life and follow her passion as a poet and writer. You’ll experience her trials, tribulations and triumphs as she trains for and crosses the finish line of the 2009 Boston Marathon and discovers the opportunity for healing in the wake of new trauma: the suicide of her nephew in 2011, and the aftermath of the 2013 Boston Marathon bombings. This is Mary's journey of coming home to her human form free from the influences of the ghastly ghostly invaders who had invaded her sacred earthly home. Her memoir includes journals and blog posts from her seven year healing odyssey. This is her journey of transformation and her message of healing, hope and possibility.

I donate 50% of royalty payments through on line sales to The One Fund to help Boston Marathon survivors and their families. Copies are also available at Brookline Marathon Sports. $5 of each book sold at Marathon Sports is donated to The One Fund.

Running Free

I tend to have vivid dreams that I can recall in the morning. They are a very important part of my healing journey. Many of them have not been pleasant to say the least but I know that the trauma dreams, as I like to call them (as opposed to nightmares) have been an important tool as I heal the effects of trauma and paralytic polio. It's exciting to experience the progression of healing through my dreams and then to experience the transformation in my life.

Last year I had several powerful dreams with my grandmother. In one, I show her that I have the ability to create an out of body experience to avoid her terror and in another dream, I felt utterly wretched for daring to stand up to her.

This morning I had an early morning dream. My mother and grandmother were standing there just as they looked in life. No more fear. No more terror. No confrontations. No need to dissociate and withdraw. I ran by them feeling strong, empowered and free.

I had no expectations for today's run. Wednesdays are usually an Aquatics Therapy day for me but with the holiday week, class was cancelled. I could have gone to the Boston University pool but the weather was so gorgeous outside that I didn't want to be indoors. I was thinking of combining a walk with a swim at Houghton's Pond or going to our local outdoor pool for a swim.

I opted for a 3.1 miler; twice around the Route 9 Reservoir and then to Dean Road. There is a huge hill on the loop back.

I was initially going to walk at a leisurely, comfortable pace as I had when we did my first 6.1 miler on Heartbreak Hill. I pushed my pace on Saturday's training run for the Tufts 10K and took 4 minutes off of my time. On Monday, my daughter and I did speed work.

I got up early feeling refreshed after a solid 10 hours of sleep to have breakfast with Tom before he left for work. We really value and treasure our time together now that we are both in our 60's. I am so grateful that he is willing and able to continue to work full time to support us financially.

I decided it was a perfect opportunity to get out and do an early run to try to beat the heat and humidity.

I was out the door by 8 am.

There was a breeze and shade when I started out. I wanted to make it a leisurely pace but something inside of me wanted to do more and so after a little warm up, I picked up the pace.

I did not have any time goal in mind and as the sun got hotter and the day more humid, I knew that I had to be careful with how I was running.

I stopped for water and walked at times.

It was me, my iPod and Nike+ along with the geese, ducks, squirrels and rabbits.

And I noticed there was something very different about this run.

I tried to figure it out. What was I feeling?

I was smiling. I was happy. I was pouring sweat. I was working hard. I was deeply connected to myself, to the moment, to my mission.

I know I have absolutely nothing to prove but I felt a need to push my pace. What was my mission anyway?

Was I feeling angry? Was I outrunning my past? Was I proving that I could overcome post polio syndrome?
The answer came back no to every question I asked.

And then it hit me. For the first time I wasn't breaking away or running away or proving them wrong ...

for the first time, I was me - running free!



And if you are curious about my time, it's the first consistent sub 16 minute/mile pace on a training run with a negative split of 32 seconds from mile 1 to mile 2 and a 16 second split from mile 1 to mile 3. It's my best training run time since I returned to the roads a little over a year ago now after a two year running hiatus. And to be able to do it in the heat and humidity is quite an accomplishment. But more important than any time on the clock, is how I felt inside, deep in my soul to experience my own sense of greatness that I never gave up. Somewhere deep inside of me I believed a time would come when the shackles to the past would come off and I could be truly me as I wrote in my first poem, "Running the Race."

From my memoir, "Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility":


I sat at my dining room table on a freezing cold dark February evening. No one else was at home. I had printouts from ‘new age’ teachers spread out all over the table. Dr. Bernie Siegel, Wayne Dyer, Tony Robbins, teachers from “The Secret” which was very popular back in the day were beckoning me. The theme was gratitude and a call to create.

“I am so happy and grateful that I can create,” was an affirmation from a Lisa Nichols newsletter.

Create? Create? I asked myself over and over again. What am I going to create? I had twins and my childbearing years were over. My career was quickly coming to an end.

And then I felt a stirring in my second chakra (only then I didn’t know it was my second chakra – I thought it might have been something I ate). I went over to my laptop in the corner of the living room and I wrote this poem:

Running the Race

Early summer 1959 my kindergarten year
Everyone around me filled with nervous fear
Despite the Salk vaccine hope polio would disappear
The polio virus crept right up and knocked me in the rear.
Dancing all around the gym feeling free just like a bird
I dropped to the ground just like a stone
and no one said a word.
The pain it was so searing-the diagnosis even worse
"It's polio" the doctor said...he was abrupt and terse.
Called one of the 'lucky ones' I had a 'mild case'
But with the other athletes I could never keep their pace.
Miss Holly physical therapist,
curly hair and a warm, broad smile
It tempered the pain of being apart - to walk I'd take awhile.

I always wore those 'special' shoes
the kids they poked and teased
With no support and much abuse
with childhood I wasn't pleased.
But put nose to the grindstone and learned all that I could
I couldn't kick a ball but my grades were always good.
Years went by and no more thought to polio did I give
I accepted the limp and everything else
and decided my life I would live.
But symptoms of weakness and muscle pain did grow
I kept a stoic face hoping no one else would know.

Life no longer was my own I struggled through each day
Suffered in silence, isolated from friends-
trying to keep depression at bay.
And with the grace of glorious God my world it opened wide
I discovered there was a Post Polio team
and they were on my side.

Using wheelchair to travel, set limits on what I could do,
Resulted in joy to realize I could live life anew.
Celebrated my body- creaks, groans and need for a brace
While in my mind I focused on winning a 10K race.
Sought out paths for healing and my spirit flew free
For the first time in life, I could truly be me.
The chains are gone and possibilities abound
I'm a tree with my roots planted firmly in ground.
I'm now off the sidelines, no need to sit and whine
So much gratitude fills my heart and love and beauty shine.
After all these years I can join the loving human race
I exceed all expectations and now I set the pace.




My memoir, "Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility" is now available on Amazon.

"Wait, I have one more goal," Mary McManus told her personal trainer in February of 2008 shortly after coming out of her toe up leg brace. "I want to run the Boston Marathon for Spaulding Rehab Hospital." Mary traded in her polio shoes for running shoes and embarked on the journey of a lifetime. Mary McManus was at the height of her career as a VA social worker when she was told by her team at Spaulding Rehabilitation Hospital’s International Rehab Center for Polio in December of 2006 that she needed to quit her job if she had any hope of preventing the progression of post polio syndrome, a progressive neuromuscular disease. In “Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility” Mary takes you on her seven year healing odyssey as a survivor of paralytic polio and trauma from her diagnosis, to taking a leap of faith to leave her award winning career at the VA to heal her life and follow her passion as a poet and writer. You’ll experience her trials, tribulations and triumphs as she trains for and crosses the finish line of the 2009 Boston Marathon and discovers the opportunity for healing in the wake of new trauma: the suicide of her nephew in 2011, and the aftermath of the 2013 Boston Marathon bombings. This is Mary's journey of coming home to her human form free from the influences of the ghastly ghostly invaders who had invaded her sacred earthly home. Her memoir includes journals and blog posts from her seven year healing odyssey. This is her journey of transformation and her message of healing, hope and possibility.

I donate 50% of royalty payments through on line sales to The One Fund to help Boston Marathon survivors and their families. Copies are also available at Brookline Marathon Sports. $5 of each book sold at Marathon Sports is donated to The One Fund.

Happy National Running Day!

Today I celebrate National Running Day! I woke up this morning to tweets and facebook posts feeling the joy and celebration that runs deep in the fiber of the running community.

Everyone runs for different reasons. Everyone has their own journey.

Mine began with the writing of a poem, "Running the Race." In December of 2006 I was diagnosed with post polio syndrome, a progressive neuromuscular disease. At that time, and in that poem, running became a metaphor for my life. Although I was in a leg brace and used a wheelchair at times for mobility facing a rather grim and uncertain future by all appearances, in my mind's eye I focused on winning a 10K race. I talked about being off of the sidelines and joining the human race having felt like an outcast because I was a survivor of paralytic polio and trauma. I imagined myself exceeding all expectations and that I now set the pace. Gratitude filled my heart even though I was told that I had to quit my job, adapt my home and prepare for a future in a wheelchair.

A shift happened within me from just thinking about and imagining myself running.

In February of 2008, my personal trainer asked me what my next goals were for my health and fitness journey. Oh I want to go outside and walk, I want to dance, I want to feel free in my body.

From my memoir, "Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility" (now available on Amazon with 50% of royalty payment proceeds being donated to The One Fund)

“Wait. I have one more goal.”

Janine stopped and turned around.

“I want to run the Boston Marathon for Spaulding Rehab Hospital. I know they have a Race for Rehab team and I want to do it next year.”

Janine was non-plussed. I don’t know what kept her from turning tail and getting as far away from me as she could. She came back into my house and put down her things. She said that the first thing I would need is a pair of running shoes. She told me that Marathon Sports on Beacon Street would be able to help me. She laid out a cursory training plan and said that we would begin indoors to build up my cardio endurance. As soon as the weather got a little warmer, we’d go outdoors and I would learn how to run.

While training for the 2009 Boston Marathon, I watched the 2008 Summer Olympics with a keen eye on the marathon event.

I wrote poetry to harness the power of visualization and to affirm my commitment to crossing the finish line.

I had one image that is still with me today from "Running with God" an article I wrote for Cape Healing Arts after running the 2008 Tufts 10K:

I had an image of my polio self and who I am today side by side in a huge bubble. As I ran, the distance lengthened between my polio self and who I am today until the bubble finally burst and I was free.

And speaking of God ....

When I run, I am grounded, strong and connected to the energy of the Earth. I also feel a connection to something far greater than me. I feel an expansiveness in my heart and in my soul. The Divine Energy of light, of love, of creation is palpable when I run. I feel a sense of joy even in the most challenging of runs. I find myself. Every time I go out on a run, I feel I find my way home to the essence of who I am. In "Running the Race" I wrote, "for the first time in life, I could truly be me."

Perhaps Dr. George Sheehan said it best when he wrote:

"The true runner is a very fortunate person. He has found something in him that is just perfect."

Happy National Running Day everyone!