It's about time to post the final installment of my adventure. It's an adventure, which by the way, I hope to be only one of several ultrarun adventures - Deo volente ("with God willing").
During the last eight miles or so I absolutely knew I would finish, but it was frustrating knowing my time would be much slower than I had originally hoped. The terrain was for the most part much less irregular than it had been during those damaging miles earlier, but my knee was still not ready for most of it. On occasion I broke into a survival-shuffle. I had a conversation with another runner who had been reduced to the same fate (i.e. a walk/shuffle) due to plantar fascia trouble. She was a young attorney who had become attracted to the ultradistances as well. These pursuits are often just what the doctor ordered for Type A individuals. During the course of our conversation I touched upon the cultural divide which is so evident in this country right now. However, I only touched upon the religious/political element, but instead identified a divide which seems to accompany it: the divide between the active and non-active.
I'm quite serious about the divide just mentioned. There is a significant portion of the population whose default setting seems to be stuck in "sedentary" mode. Physical exercise, particularly of the endurance variety, is to them at best means to better health and fitness. - almost in the "necessary evil" category. With that type of view, it is very hard to enjoy movement, to do much of it voluntarily, and therefore it is difficult to possess the health, fitness, and comfort with the body that they could otherwise have. For reasons that bear more analysis and explanation than I wish to give right now, the people in this group are often the very people who should be the first to value and use their bodies for movement. I'm referring to Bible-believing Christians. There is no good reason for those in the "Bible Belt" of this country to be the fattest and least health conscious people when compared to the more secular and non-Bible-believing people who tend to inhabit the East and West coasts.
As can be inferred from what I just said about one group, the group on the other side of the divide is often populated by the very same people who would not be identified as "Bible-believing Christians" or "conservative." The modern (not "classical") liberals that predominate on both our East coast and West tend to be the ones adhering to a movement lifestyle. These are the ones for whom the default mode is "movement" rather than "sitting" or "sedentary." They not only move as a means to the end of preventing a heart attack or other life-shortening event, but they move for the sheer joy of it. This is the group that I find myself in - though I do not belong to the liberal/secular group. I often fancy calling myself a "crunchy conservative" - but my goal is not that I would stand out in that way. Christ's followers should not follow the unbiblical notion that the physical body is somehow not "good" but should instead embrace and care for all of God's gifts - including our bodies and the environment. Should this be regulated by the civil government? The short answer is "No." Again, this is something where further explanation might be sought by some - but I won't give in this particular blog post. Let it suffice to say that I am a proponent of a lifestyle of MOVEMENT and JOY in movement - and I hope and pray to bring many of my Christian brothers and sisters into this movement. Just as the Devil should not have all the good music, the Devil should not have all the good running, cycling, race times, healthy bodies, other exercise, et cetera!
Back to the race. Some time after the young attorney left me, deciding the time was right for her own survival-shuffle, I found there was only a few miles to go. I broke into my own shuffle a couple times. The course became almost flat. I was getting close. I wondered whether my dad had thought to enter my three oldest kids who were with him at the time in the "Kids Race" to be held at 4pm. They had all been intent on running the one-kilometer Kids Race and I didn't want them to miss it - even if I would miss seeing it. In the near distance I then saw what looked like my dad accompanied by my three kids I just mentioned. As I approached, I raised my voice and asked if they didn't know the Kid's Race was to start in just a few minutes. The response I got showed that he and they knew, but that they had wanted to meet me on the course. They had all walked about two miles from the start/finish line to meet me, and both of the girls wanted to run the final two miles with me. What more could a dad want in terms of support? No race for the kids that day - but it was a joy to see them and to run the final two miles with them. Kodak moment. They did beautifully. I crossed the finish line in 11 hours, 7 minutes, 52 seconds; 185th out of 361 entrants. I was holding Brenna's light blue jacket under my arm.
How do I close up this story? I'll try and make it short. I stayed with my girls, retrieved my personal belongings bag, got and enjoyed my free beer (Sierra Nevada) from the beer garden, piled my hot meal plate high with meaty, cheesy pasta and vegetables from the hot meal station from which I was entitled to a hot meal. We sat on the grass in the middle of the festive area as I enjoyed my food. Dad and Liam (my 4-year-old son) eventually came and met us. Liam had quite the hike that day with his two miles out and two miles back journey. According to Dad, Liam didn't complain a bit. Good job, Liam. We stayed for a short while before before getting on the bus which took us to our respective vehicles. From there we went back to my parents' house. The kids came back with dinner from McDonalds - and I also had dinner from McDonalds. It was my second dinner of the evening. A double-cheesburger and two McDonalds desert pies (on top of another full dinner just-eaten) burn with no complications in the stomach of one who had just traveled fifty-miles on foot. Even with legs that would soon become virtually useless and reduce me to the ambulatory powers of a 100-year old man, I felt absolutely wonderful.
Next year: more trail training and a much faster race-day performance! I love this stuff.
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