Physical pain isn't always the enemy it seems to be

This time I started in pain.

I'd had back spasms, a sore IT band and an achy hip. In fact, my sisters and I had a great time laughing at all the rolling, icing, taping and massaging I had to go through just to be capable of walking up to the start corrals of the Las Vegas Marathon last Sunday.

Pain is an interesting companion.

Everybody, it seems, has some pain. A headache, a backache, a sore shoulder, a sore knee — something, somewhere is throbbing most of the time.

For some of us, pain has been in and out of our lives as long as we can remember. For others, it is a by-product of aging or injuries.

Anyone who has played competitive sports understands that pain is not always the enemy it seems to be. Sometimes it's what reveals to us how strong we actually are and how much we are capable of accomplishing. Other times, it is, indeed, the thief of our dreams.

The reason I love to examine pain — especially physical pain — is that it is so relative. An injury that sidelines Person A doesn't even faze Person B. Why? Does this mean anything? Is one smarter than the other? Is one tougher than the other? Does it depend on what's on the line?

I mean, sometimes you don't need to suffer.

And then there are marathons.

Suffering is mandatory. It's not just inevitable, it is something most repeat marathon runners embrace.

I am not there yet. This was my eighth marathon, and while I love running these races, I am not quite loving how much it hurts to run 26.2 miles.

So I cheat a little.

I find it easier to endure pain for a reason. I can stumble along farther and faster with a little inspiration.

Maybe it's my mother's influence, but suffering for someone else is so much more appealing than struggling for me.

My youngest sister, Dani, who knows I usually write down my reason and carry it with me, asked me the night before the race who I was running for this time.

"Daphne," I said. "If she can shove her skinny, crooked little body into that unforgiving, plastic cast every day, I can deal with the few aches and pains that come with running."

Daphne Claire is a 10-year-old unlike any other I have met. She was diagnosed with scoliosis two years ago. About a month ago, the doctors told her the curve of her spine was bad enough that she needed to wear a brace.