News and Knowledge

Jill Crossman is a member of the RUN FOR AUTISM team and the mother of a son with autism. After running the Detroit Marathon, she signed up to run the Vermont City Marathon as part of OAR’s iRUN FOR AUTISM team. She has raised $1,400 so far and has plans to continue as part of the RUN FOR AUTISM team at the ING Rock ‘n’ Roll Philadelphia Half Marathon.

As many of you know I love to run. Okay, that’s putting it mildly. I live and breathe running! I started running again in the spring of 2010, and what caught my eye was a 5k run at Oakland University for its autism program.

I could think of no better reason to run since my son Tom is autistic.

After finishing my first run, I caught the fever… the competitive fever that is. Whether it is time or distance, I love to compete against myself and push myself as far as I can go.

While doing this though, I realized there was a bigger reason to run. I run for Tom! I decided to run for my guy, to raise awareness and money for research for autism. I took to every race with the motto, I RUN 4 TOM!! Then I realized to really get my message out, I needed to do the ultimate race: a marathon.

I signed up for the Detroit Marathon, which took place in October. It was an amazing race — an emotional and physical challenge — but I finished. Tom waited for me at the finish line, and told me how proud he was of me! And that was amazing because I am so proud of all that he has accomplished, never giving up, and always pushing forward no matter how hard it is.

After the Detroit Marathon, a running buddy of mine persuaded me to sign up for the Vermont City Marathon in May. So I got my game face on and started training.  I was determined to make a time of 4:15. This wasn’t out of reach since my first marathon time was 4:27.

Only a month and a half away from race day, my running buddy told me she wasn’t going to be able to run. Many people suggested I back out or find a different run. But, of course I said heck, no! I signed up for this bad boy, and I was going to do it.

When I went to pick up my race packet on Saturday, a volunteer informed me that I needed to fill out the back of my bib. “You need to put your name, emergency contact person, medications you take, any medications you are allergic too, and any medical history we would need to know.”

As I looked at the volunteer in amazement, the last thing she said was, “This could be what saves your life.” At that point, I wondered what I signed up for.

When the race started at 8 a.m., the temperature was in the mid-60s and it was pouring rain. “Great!!” I thought to myself. As many of you know, running is not just an endurance sport but also a mental one. Mentally, I was not where I needed to be. I started the race saying to myself, “Suck it up, if this is the worse of the race you’ve got nothing to complain about.”

It soon turned out otherwise. At mile 5, the rain had stopped, and the heat and humidity started to rise. By 9:30, the temperature was 75 with humidity at 80 to 90 percent. I knew things were going to get rough!

I kept going. With every mile, the pain from the blisters on my toes (thanks to soaking wet socks and shoes) ratcheted up. Every step felt like someone kept pulling a tourniquet tighter. But I kept going, until the “two-mile assault,” the name marathoners gave this section of the race. I looked straight up and saw this monstrous hill, wait, I mean, mountain. I guess that’s why they call Vermont the Green Mountain State.

I asked who (and used a few choice names) would put this on a race course. I knew I would be walking up this straight incline. As I got to the top, my calves and legs were cramping. I had drunk plenty of fluid, but there is no way to train for this. I started doing walk and jog intervals, to keep myself from passing out from pure exhaustion.

At that point, I was still between the 4:00 and 4:15 pace. As minutes went by, I fell farther and farther back, finally slowing to less than the 5:00 pace.

I finally felt the emotional break as the tears started to fall. I felt I had let Tom down. As people were starting to bail out of the race, I refused to quit. Once I decide to do something, I’m going finish it no matter what. Tom doesn’t get to quit when he’s had enough or things get too hard, so I sure wasn’t going to either!

As I crossed the finish line and saw Tom waiting for me, tears came down again. I told him I was sorry I didn’t do what I set out to do. He gave me a kiss, told me he was proud, and said that’s a cool medal.

I realized I didn’t let him down. I finished what I started, when I could have taken the easy way out and not even gone or quit when it got tough. But I didn’t. I battled through

Click here to learn more about joining the RUN FOR AUTISM team.