Breaking Through

In the home stretch!

As the countdown to my first marathon entered its final hours, the parallels I saw to the experiences of first-time microfinance borrowers grew. I heard the echoes of many stories told to me by poor (and formerly poor) women in Bangladesh, as they recounted their journeys of borrowing, investing and repaying sums like $60 or $100 years earlier.

In the 48 hours before the start of the Detroit marathon, I was anxious and, according to my wife Emily, fairly irritable. I wondered about how my left knee would hold up, and what the conditions had in store. Some weather forecasts predicted an unseasonably warm and windy day. Not good for marathoning. I felt a cold coming on as I tossed and turned in bed Saturday night. As I lined up the other runners in my “corral,” however, I felt a sense of peace – perhaps what a microfinance client feels when she finally receives her loan and is off to start or expand a tiny business.

At the finish line with Emily.

Like the experience of many who own microbusinesses, my race had several phases. The first 16 miles was relatively easy; I was on a four hour pace. My wife turned up every 6-8 miles to cheer me on, as did thousands of local volunteers, mostly at areas called “Spirit Stations.” I slowed a bit for miles 16 to 19. Then things started to get complicated. Just after the 19-mile marker, one of my legs started to cramp up. Seeing my wife at mile 20 put a smile on my face, but I knew that there was trouble ahead. Still, I reached mile 22 in the same time that it had taken me to cover 20 miles during my longest training run.

The last 4.2 miles were very difficult, analogous perhaps to when a woman who is raising chickens as her business sees half her flock die, or has a family health crisis that strains her finances and frays her nerves. My cramps worsened as I passed this final trial, extending to parts of my body that I barely knew had muscles. I ran at a snail’s pace, watching helplessly as runners who looked to be in their 60s and 70s passed me by. More power to them!

When the final stretch was at hand, in an instant I saw the finish line, my colleague Erin, and Emily. I tried to look dignified and celebratory as I crossed the finish line, but within seconds I was crying and being led by an EMT to a medical tent. There was nothing seriously wrong with me, and before long I was released by the very helpful medics and on to enjoy a beautiful afternoon in Detroit with my wife, whose challenge got this all going months ago. My official time, as reported in the Free-Press, was 4:35:32.

How could I not reflect on the trauma and triumphs of microloan clients as I passed the final grueling miles of the marathon? For them, the stakes are much higher – the possibility of breaking the generational cycle of poverty, as a quiet but powerful legacy that will resound for decades, even centuries.

P.S. I would like to thank my colleagues at Grameen Foundation -- Maya Uppaluru, Matt Mechenbier and Helen Yuen -- for their efforts to make this blog a reality, and everyone who sponsored me financially.