What’s Your Excuse?

I saw a documentary recently that once again washed away any whines, moans, complaints or excuses I might have for why I am not living up to my much greater potential.

The documentary is called The Ironman of Kansas. It’s a remarkable story of courage and determination that, nearly 100 years later, still has the ability to inspire. I have since read more about the story and the courageous man behind it. Let me pass it onto you now.

While World War I raged on in Europe, life back home in the American Midwest went on as normal. Glenn Cunningham was like any other kid growing up in Kansas. He had learned the value of hard work at an early age, as chores were doled out as soon as one could walk. And so, one bitterly cold February morning in 1916, seven-year-old Glenn accompanied his older brother Floyd on the two-mile trek to the schoolhouse to light the stove for that morning’s classes. It was a chore the boys had previously done on several occasions.

This morning, however, something went terribly wrong. The kerosene container used to soak the logs had been mistakenly filled with gasoline. When Floyd dropped a match into the stove, it exploded, engulfing the two boys in flames. His clothes saturated with gasoline and still burning, Glenn ran the two miles back home. It would be the last time he ran–or walked–for three years.
The explosion had ravaged Glenn’s lower body. The flesh on his knees and shins had been eaten away by the flames. The toes on his left foot were gone and the transverse arch severely damaged. His right leg was grossly misshapen, now a full two inches shorter than the left.
Doctors proclaimed him more dead than alive. They recommended amputation. But Glenn’s mother refused to let her little boy lose his legs–not when he had already suffered a much more devastating loss.

 

Floyd later died from complications of his injuries. The doctors told his parents they had done all they could. All his parents could do now was keep vigil by Glenn’s bed.

After drifting in and out of consciousness, Glenn awoke to unspeakable pain. He could not move his legs.

 

But he could hear. He overheard whispered conversations between his mother and the doctors. Heard them say he would likely not survive. If he somehow did, he would surely never walk again. Glenn Cunningham was about to prove them wrong…on both accounts.

 

After weeks in the hospital, Glenn returned home, his legs bandaged and lifeless. His parents began a daily routine of massaging his legs to stretch the muscles and restore suppleness to his lower limbs.

“It hurt like mad,” Glenn said,” especially when my father stretched my legs.”

When his father tired, Glenn would ask his mother to take over the massages. When she could not continue, he would do it himself. He was determined to walk again, and he endured the excruciating routine as a necessary evil to realize his goal.

 

In the summer of 1919, three years after the explosion, Glenn began crawling across the yard. He then began dragging himself along a picket fence, willing his legs to function. Slowly, over a period of months, aided by a mother’s encouragement and father’s belief that you should never quit trying, Glenn began to walk. And during those grueling workouts, he made a discovery. “It hurt like thunder to walk, but it didn’t hurt at all when I ran.”

 

So for the next six years he ran. Everywhere. During one of his runs he passed by a local drugstore. He saw medals hanging in the window. They were to be awarded to the best mile runners at the upcoming local farmer’s fair. It was the motivation he needed. He entered the race and won. And kept on running…right into the record books and the hearts of Depression-era Americans looking for inspiration.

 

 

Glenn Cunningham is considered by many to be the greatest American miler ever. At Elkhart High School he set a national record for the mile. At the University of Kansas, he set conference records in the half-mile and mile during the 1931-32 season, and then went on to smash the NCAA record at the National Collegiate Meet, running the mile in 4:11.1.

 

In 1932, his win at the NCAA 1500-meter championship earned him a berth on the Olympic team. In 1933, he was awarded the James E. Sullivan Award as the top amateur athlete. In 1936 he qualified for the Berlin Olympics, where he was voted the most popular athlete by his teammates, edging out his roommate, Jesse Owens.

 

At those Olympics, Cunningham was the favorite in the 1500-meter event. But on race day, two uninvited challengers lined up with him in the starting blocks: the cold and rain. Cool weather had always aggravated his leg injuries, and this time was no different. As he ran around the track, he experienced excruciating pain.

 

 

“My legs were on fire. The realization enraged me. It seemed so unfair. The anger gave me new strength as I pounded the cinders toward the finish.”

 

Jack Lovelock of New Zealand would ultimately beat him at the finish line. When asked after the race about placing second, Glenn replied, “I feel I ran a fast race. I broke the Olympic record for a mile. Only one person in the world ran faster.”

 

That positive attitude became his legacy. Glenn learned to never quit, never stop believing in yourself… and never stop running the race.

 

 

After retiring in 1940 with 2 NCAA titles, 8 AAU championships, and numerous world records, Glenn earned a doctorate in physical education. He served as the physical education director at Cornell College from 1940 to 1944 before serving two years in the Navy.

With his second wife, Ruth, he later ran a home for troubled youth on the 840-acre ranch he had purchased in Cedar Point, Kansas. The Cunninghams helped more than 9,000 youths over the ensuing years.

 

And though he never achieved his ultimate goal–to run a four-minute mile–he did achieve the understanding that running is like life: the best strategy is to just run as fast as you can from the very start and keep running through to the end.

Here is an apropos quote from Glenn Cunningham himself:

“If you stay in the running, if you have endurance,
you are bound to win over those who haven’t.”
– Glenn Cunningham

Sometimes victory comes in simply having the courage to run the race…in fighting through the pain that hurts like thunder…and in never, ever quitting on yourself.

“Never, ever quitting on yourself.”

Remember that.
No matter the “excuses.”

You can overcome, rise again and achieve far beyond your current imagination.
Just get up… and run.

 

Darren Hardy