MARATHON COURSE IN MIRACLES.

Byline: Jenifer Hanrahan Daily News Staff Writer

About 19,000 runners from more than 50 countries will converge on downtown Los Angeles on Sunday for the Los Angeles Marathon, a 26.2-mile trek that will test their physical and mental endurance.

Those with the fastest strides will run away with the prizes and the glory. For the rest of the pack, however, success will be measured in private moments of personal accomplishment.

We chose several local competitors who have set themselves apart - not by speed, but by dedication and spirit. They won't be the first to cross the finish line, but their stories of perseverance can be as inspiring as those of the winners.

Edward "Big Ed" Rasky of West Hills isn't sure how many more marathons his body can take. The 70-year-old marathon veteran says he wants to make this year's run his last - if only he could find a replacement.

Rasky, a retired high school English teacher, has run all 10 L.A. marathons - and raised about $63,000 in pledges for a camp for children with cancer.

"All that pounding on the cement takes a lot out of you," Rasky said. "I've been hoping that I can get some others runners who are interested in this particular charity, or maybe come up with another way to continue funding."

Rasky has written letters to celebrities asking for million-dollar contributions to Camp Ronald McDonald for Good Times in Idyllwild, which has activities year-round for children with cancer and their families. But he's never heard back.

Instead, he solicits pledges from friends and poker buddies while running seven or eight miles every morning for three months to prepare for the annual race.

His best time was 3 hours, 50 minutes eight years ago. This year, he expects it to take another hour - at least.

"I'm 70 years old, you know. Just to finish is really great," said Rasky, who has been running marathons for 17 years. "I know I will, because I train properly for it."

When he is not training, Rasky stays fit by playing tennis several times a week and backpacking in the Sierra Neveda mountain range every summer.

"I'm the same size as when I was in the Navy," Rasky said. "I'm in excellent shape."

When Laurie King of Van Nuys begins to walk the 26.2-mile course Sunday, she'll be wearing Benjamin Wilson's hospital bracelet.

Benjamin, 6, has leukemia. Along with 63 other walkers and runners, King is participating in the marathon to raise money for the Leukemia Society of America, which donates money for research and assists families of leukemia sufferers.

The L.A. Marathon is a major source of funding for the charity, providing about $60,000, or 5 percent of the Los Angeles chapter's annual budget. King's contribution will be $1,500, which she raised by collecting pledges from friends and family.

Benjamin will serve as her inspiration on marathon day.

"When it gets tough, I'll look at the hospital bracelet and think, 'It can't be any tougher for me than it is for him,' " said King, 60.

He's not the first person she's walked 26.2 miles for. King completed previous marathons in memory of her 25-year-old son, Richard, who died of leukemia in 1980.

"I didn't want somebody else to lose their child," King said. "I hope that by staying involved and raising money they will find a cure. I want to be there to celebrate when they say, 'Yes, we can cure leukemia.' "

In all, a record 57 charities will take part in the marathon this year. Since 1988, more than $7 million has been raised for local groups.

Frank Genco has completed all 10 L.A. Marathons, making him one of the 500 or so people who can proudly call themselves "10-ers."

A feat, indeed.

What's more amazing is how the 61-year-old Covina resident completed them - by pushing himself down the asphalt with crutches and a roller skate. Genco lost his right leg at 3 because of a birth defect.

Heat, exhaustion and thirst may defeat other runners. Genco says he faces his own obstacles on race day - paper cups, orange peels, and potholes that cause him to fall. He uses special pads on the crutches to keep his underarms from bleeding, and shock-absorbing rubber tips to lessen the ache in his knee.

"I lot of people don't use their full potential; they give up before they even try," Genco said.

Genco says marathons are fun, the pain notwithstanding. He hams it up for the crowd by disco dancing when most runners are huffing and puffing. He especially loves it when he catches the eye of children.

"About three years ago, a little girl was watching the race with her dad, and I heard her say, 'Look dad, his leg fell off,' " Genco said.

His antics and style have earned him a following among those who line the course. "People have told me they were ready to give up, but when they see me, they keep going," Genco said.

His active lifestyle has kept him healthy. Genco said his spine is shaped like a coil; doctors told the 4-foot-8 Genco he probably wouldn't live past 15.

A professional hypnotherapist, Genco says he prepares for a race mostly by doing mind exercises. He imagines himself completing the marathon.

Who can argue with success? In all, he has completed 36 marathons since 1979 (on the same skate). On March 3, Genco expects to cross the finish line a few minutes shy of 5 hours.

William Kuester may be the fastest 87-year-old this side of the Hollywood Hills.

In 1993, Kuester was the first in the 80-and-older category to walk past the finish line with a time of 8 hours, 5 minutes. Last year, he did it in 8-1/2 hours.

This year will be Kuester's sixth try. He is one of a handful of people over age 80 who have entered the marathon. (So far, the oldest is an 89-year-old man from Boca Raton, Fla.).

Kuester, a retired pastor and administrator for the Seventh-day Adventist Church, doesn't understand what all the fuss is about.

"Some people are very much surprised about it," Kuester said. "I tell them that to have good health is what God wanted us to do, and to do that you have to follow the program that he gives: right food, right exercise and right living."

Kuester, who lives in Thousand Oaks with his wife, Theda, is a lifelong vegetarian - no chicken or fish ever - and a devout athlete. He took up running 25 years ago while working in Canada and gave it up for walking only a few years ago.

His exercise routine includes walking four miles around his Calle de Oro neighborhood three days a week and lifting weights at the gym two days a week. When training for a marathon, he takes several walks a day, sometimes two miles, then three, then four.

His wife says he never gets sick - except for the time he got an upset stomach decades ago when they were doing missionary work in Cuba.

"He's never had a headache in his life," she said. "He's never had a toothache."

Kuester says he competes in marathons to not only maintain his health, but to prove his body is still working properly.

"It's a long, long day. But I have to go all the way," he said. "You go to the extent of your possibilities and you can do it - and it makes me feel good."

He's confident he'll cross that finish line.

Said Kuester: "I made it last year in one of the worst rains. I'll make it this year, too."

Yollanda Cruz remembers sitting in front of the television, polishing off a six-pack of beer, when she took at hard look at her life.

She was drinking too much and was severely overweight. It was difficult to walk. She was unhappy, bored and in a rut that started more than 20 years ago.

"I just looked at myself and said, 'How do you want to feel in 10 years? Do you want to weigh 250 pounds, using a walker?'

"I wasn't doing anything, just staring at the TV," said Cruz, who has worked as a garage attendant for the Los Angeles Unified School District for 17 years. "I feel that I finally woke up and said, 'Get ahold of yourself.' "

She went on a diet and dropped 75 pounds from her 225-pound frame. She started walking an hour a day and attending aerobics classes three times a week. And she sought treatment for her drinking.

And yet the 45-year-old East Los Angeles woman didn't feel as if she had gone far enough. She wanted a new challenge, something that would keep her on the right track.

Her answer: entering the L.A. Marathon.

"I lost the weight. I gave up drinking," Cruz said. "If I can do those things, I can do the marathon."

Cruz's mother died from diabetes, so Cruz decided to walk to raise money for the American Diabetes Association. She has raised $400 so far.

She's worried about taking more than eight hours to finish: By then, it's dark, the crowds are gone and marathoners have to finish the race on the sidewalk. Still, marathon workers on bikes and in vans will be patrolling the route to make sure everyone makes it safely to the finish.

Nonetheless, Cruz says she can hardly wait to be in the midst of the excitement.

"It's like being in the Olympics or something," Cruz said. "For us little people, it's a big deal."

It took Bryce Patrick's family some time before they realized the 17-year-old boy loves to run.

Patrick is autistic. The disorder affects every child differently, but is characterized by a lack of development of cognitive and language skills. Autistic children are detached and can't get involved emotionally.

His mother, Chanetha Turner-Parnell, first noticed her son was acting differently when he was 2.

"He started losing his vocabulary," said Turner-Parnell. "He didn't show any emotions anymore. It was a nightmare. I thought I did something wrong. I blamed myself."

Patrick, who lives in Los Angeles with his mother, his stepfather, and younger brother and sister, spent much of his time staring out of windows before his mother enrolled him in an athletic program for special-education children at Susan Miller Dorsey High School in Los Angeles.

He quickly excelled in swimming and track and field events, eventually trying his skills in the L.A. Marathon. He finished last year's race - which was his second attempt - in 5 hours, 42 minutes. He'll run this year's marathon with a six-member Special Olympics team.

Turner-Parnell, a clerical supervisor for Los Angeles County, said the change in her son has been dramatic. She often speaks for him because his verbal skills are limited.

"Before, he was withdrawn. He didn't show interest in anything," she said. "Now he'll walk up to someone and say hello. He even likes to go bowling."

Turner-Parnell said she feels proud when seeing her son run. She even entered last year's marathon to show him support, but dropped out when it proved too tough.

"The first time he participated, I was so nervous and scared. I was worried he might get lost or something," she said. "But he managed to stay right with the pack, and he does an excellent job. That's why it's so amazing. You don't think he's autistic. He's running just like everybody else."

CAPTION(S):

PHOTO

Photo (1--Cover--Color) Because it's there Six local marathoners tell why they want to complete 26.2 miles come Sunday (2) "People have told me they were ready to give up, but when they see me, they keep going," says Frank Genco, 61, who has completed 36 marathons since 1979. Myung J. Chun/Daily News (3) Laurie King, working out with her dog, is walking this year's marathon - sans canine - for leukemia patient Benjamin Wilson, 6. Her own son died of the disease in 1980. (4) Edward "Big Ed" Rasky, 70, runs the L.A. Marathon to raise money for Camp Ronald McDonald for Good Times, which offers activities to children with cancer. Bob Halvorsen/Daily News (5) "It's a long, long day. But I have to go all the way. You go to the extent of your possibilities and you can do it - and it makes me feel good." William Kuester 87-year-old marathoner David Sprague/Daily News (6) "I wasn't doing anything, just staring at the TV. I finally woke up and said, 'Get ahold of yourself.' " Yollanda Cruz Stopped drinking, lost 75 pounds, took up running Gus Ruelas/Daily News (7) Chanetha Turner-Parnell, left, accompanies her autistic son, Bryce Patrick, 17, who will run the 26.2-mile marathon course with a Special Olympics team. Michael Owen Baker