Story by Xavier Hendrix

 

Growing up, I always struggled with my weight. In 2020, I weighed nearly 280 pounds. My self-esteem, confidence, and health were at an all-time decline. During one of many sleepless nights, I decided to begin my journey. I rushed into my closet, grabbed an old pair of shoes, laced them, and hit the road. I started running and couldn’t make it down the street. After many weeks of failure, I was able to run a mile. One mile became two.

 

Two became three. Three miles became nine. In June 2021, I weighed myself. I was over 120 pounds down. I was thrilled. In October of 2021, I finally got the chance to test myself. I registered for my first-ever 5K race. Oakland’s “Hella-Ween”. I surprised myself. Not only did I walk away with a new personal best, but somehow I won. That very moment gave me the confidence to set my sights high. When I returned home from the race, I grabbed a piece of paper and began to write 5k, 10k, 13.1, 26.2, and ultramarathon. I then tapped the paper on the wall of my bedroom. I took a Sharpie and crossed off 5k. I have now taken my journey to the next level.

 

I went from losing weight to now having the goal of racing every distance from 5k to an ultramarathon. Every morning, I was greeted by that piece of paper on the wall. Seeing that list motivated me and brought my goal into physical form. On February 27th, 2022, I skipped the 10k mark and crossed 13.1 off the list by racing the Berkeley half marathon. This moment is the most memorable because I crossed that finish line with my dad, who began his running journey to cope with the loss of my sister, Allie. The Berkeley half was his first half-marathon after Allie’s passing. So naturally, crossing the line with him is an unforgettable moment.

 

With confidence surging, my crosshairs were set on the infamous San Francisco Marathon. Every morning, I would train intensely and stare at that 26.2 written on my bedroom wall. Weeks before the race, I would suffer a complex meniscus tear. I missed the race and was back to ground zero. Like years prior, I was now unable to run down the street.
During this time, I spiraled into a deep hole of depression. That piece of paper that once served as motivation was now a cruel reminder that my dream was possibly forever unattainable. I removed that paper from the wall. For some strange reason, I could not throw it away. No matter how hard I tried, I could not bring myself to do it. So I tucked it away.

 

Thanks to my family and community, I climbed out of that hole and began the slow process of physical therapy. To keep myself motivated, I began to write a list of every race I wanted to complete. No matter how insane or impossible it seemed, I wrote it down and slapped it on the wall. After almost a year of pain and uncertainty, my physical therapist put me on a treadmill at slow speed for a few minutes. I was then cleared to try light walking and minimal jogging. Like the crazy person I am, I registered for a 10k in the Oakland Running Festival without my physical therapist knowing. Instead of light walking and minimal jogging, I approached training full speed ahead, struggling to rebuild what was lost.

 

March 19th, 2023, race day had arrived. I stepped onto that starting line with feelings of fear and anxiety. When the race began, those feelings were washed away. Both figurative and literal. It had begun to rain. I was now repeating to myself, “Don’t slip.” I now had one objective. Make it from point A to B. No matter how fast or slow. Most importantly, don’t die. I soon crossed that finish line rain-soaked and confidence restored. I was back. Shortly after returning home, the list I had previously tucked was now back on the wall alongside my other goals.

 

Shortly after completing the physical therapy, I was not only back; I was better. I was not only completing my goals, but I had also formed a strong connection with the running community around me. Huge shoutout to Black Men Run of the Bay Area and Renegade Running of Oakland.

 

At the end of 2023, I, along with 25 other Bipoc runners, were selected to compete in the Los Angeles Marathon with Project Renegade. Project Renegade was created by Renegade Running to add diversity to the world of marathon running. This project allowed me to be both a representative of my community and demonstrate that people of color have a voice and place in this sport.

 

March 17th, 2024. I completed the impossible. I ran over 26.2 miles through the streets and hills of Los Angeles. I sprinted across the finish line with arms raised and tears in my eyes. During the race, I began to think back on how far I had come. Seeing my Renegade family cheering me on put the biggest smile on my face. Every setback, heartbreak, and disappointment had set me on a path to that very moment. All I can say is that it was worth it.

 

Months later, the very race responsible for my journey was now in my sights once again. This time, I would not miss it. On July 28th, 2024, I took on the San Francisco Marathon. This race earned its reputation. The course was infested with huge hills. I can say with certainty that the old me was not prepared. After a tough battle, I sprinted across the finish line laughing like a maniac.

 

I am so grateful to be part of a community of people who genuinely care for one another. As runners, we struggle and have setbacks. It’s nice to have a support system to get you through rough patches. It always brings a smile to my face when I see everyone cheering each other on.

 

Running is beautiful because of the relationships you build and the people you meet along your journey. If you run a marathon with a stranger, I guarantee that by the end, it will be as if you’ve known each other for years.

 

Running is challenging because it never gets easier. Bearable; yes, but easy; never. That’s also what makes running so rewarding.