When runners facing the backs of T.A.P.S. team members in the Sunday, Oct. 30, Marine Corps Marathon looked ahead, fallen soldiers were staring at them.
Our Memorials Move.
The motto is written above photos of military service members on signs tagged to the shirts of T.A.P.S. athletes.
Some of those moving memorials have come from Plant City. This year, Sarah Holt was one of those runners. Holt, the managing editor at In the Field Magazine, made her first marathon count by keeping a Marine’s memory alive.
GONE, NOT FORGOTTEN
Before each Marine Corps Marathon, T.A.P.S. runners learn about their assigned “heroes” and get to know their families.
In Holt’s case, her hero was a Marine named Sgt. Richard Stumpf.
Stumpf took his own life on Halloween in 1994, while on active duty. His wife, Carla, was unable to attend her husband’s funeral because she was giving birth to their child.
“She’s an open book about his life,” Holt says.
Although Holt had never met Stumpf and was first put in contact with Carla a month before the race, she learned enough to feel as though she had known him.
“When it got tough, I could hear him yelling in my ear,” Holt says.
On the day of the race, Holt sent her photos from the scene. Although she wasn’t feeling her best that day, having caught a cold, the magazine editor was determined to run for Stumpf. She also was given a Marine Corps pin to wear from a neighbor, who had asked her to run “for those who couldn’t.”
RACE DAY
The marathon takes runners around Washington, D.C. and Arlington, Virginia, ending at the Iwo Jima Memorial in Arlington. It’s packed with over 30,000 people and bands playing music.
Holt popped a Zyrtec and prepared herself to go the distance.
“I didn’t really hit the wall, but I felt bad after about 8 miles,” Holt says. “Usually, I’m good for about 15. But it was tough.”
Still, Holt was able to get going. She was fueled in part by the spectacle of the event, which she described as “rowdy,” and in part by the cause. One particular stretch of the run, the “Blue Mile,” stood out to her for other reasons.
“On both sides of the road, it’s lined with photos of servicemen that lost their lives … on that mile, nobody tells you to be quiet, it’s silent,” Holt says. “All you can hear are people’s feet hitting the road.”
The last two miles were toughest for Holt, as they featured an uphill climb. But she was able to complete the marathon, just as she set out to do — for those who couldn’t.
“It was a perfect first marathon,” Holt says.
Contact Justin Kline at jkline@plantcityobserver.com.