Observations from the sideline

Over the course of the ten hours I was waiting on Jay to finish his run, I made a few observations about these people I call 'the crazies' and this race.

First off, other than that initial feeling of discrimination so-to-speak at the packet pick-up, I never once felt like the runners were judgmental or comparing one another.  I asked Jay about that and he agreed.  He said he never noticed someone acting like they were a better runner than someone else.

At around the 30-mile mark, Jay found a running buddy, an older fella named Keith who was from northern Illinois.  They ran the last 20 miles pretty much side-by-side, which was great for Jay when it got dark.  He said that having Keith with him made such a huge difference.  He really didn't know if he could have gotten through the last 20 without him.  Keith had intended to run the 100 miler, but opted to stop at the 50 finish. He, too, thought that Jay had been a great encouragement to him and was glad to be able to run with him.

Jay mentioned this one gal he passed toward the end of his race and she was going the other direction.  He said she was running alone and had that look of defeat, like she was about to break.  "I could tell she just needed someone to run with her and encourage her." He so wanted to turn around and run with her a couple miles, but he was just trying to finish and battling his own exhaustion. Plus, he was running with Keith, and they also seemed to need each other.

I'm sure there were other stories like that from the race.  I heard lots of encouragement and cheering from everyone around.  No one was pushing or shoving or being rude at the check stations.  You didn't see looks of disgust from other runners if someone was in their way.  You saw a bit of exhaustion, lots of determination and encouragement.

The family and friends who were waiting at the check points were friendly and considerate.  Again, I didn't see any nastiness from them either.  The volunteers did great and the race coordinator, or whatever he is called, did a wonderful job putting together this event.  I assumed it was something that had been put on for a few years because of how smooth and professional everything was...nope, this was the first year for it.  Even the various businesses around the town of Vienna had words of welcome on their signs.

I found myself feeling guilty when I would need to go use the restroom at these aid stations.  I would try to wait until there weren't many runners passing through, but that didn't happen.  I would let someone in front of me, then another and then decide, okay, I cannot wait...and would try to hurry.  I never considered how everyone would be at a different pace and constantly running by.

There were about 150-175 runners registered for each race.  (That is a bunch of crazies.)  The winner of the 100 miler was a female from Indiana.  In August she set a world record for most miles run indoors by a female in 48 hours...242 miles. She ran this 100 miles in 14 hours and 45 minutes. Amazing, right?  Well, she now holds the American record for fastest time EVER run by a female in a 100 mile trail run.  She beat the old record by 13 minutes!

There were 27 states represented, along with Great Britain, Japan and Canada.  (I guess there are crazies all over the world.)  The oldest runners I saw on the registration sheet were two men, 73 and 77...and they were signed up for the 100 miler.  Can you imagine?

All in all my observations from the sideline were positive.  I really had a sense of respect for every single participant out there, regardless of whether they were running 100 miles or 'just' 50.  I can run to the bathroom and maybe to a buffet line, but that's where I draw the line.  These folks have a serious passion for running and overall health.  I'm glad that Jay is doing enough for both of us...I think I'll just keep observing from the sideline.

All kinds of CRAZY!

Continuing the running post...When we walked in to retrieve his registration packet, it was sort of like sign-up at a 5 or 10K.  When they ask if you're here for the 10K, you reply the 5K and they look at you like you're a wimp.  Jay felt the same way here.  "Are you here for the 100 miler?"  "No, the 50."  "Oh, well, YOUR stuff is over THERE."  Uh-huh, because running 50 miles is soooo pathetic.  Oh well, we were not discouraged.  Jay was going to be running 50 miles!

When we arrived at the start/finish line on Saturday morning, we were quite shocked to see that some runners had tent-camped.  It was 18 degrees at 7:15 am.  I cannot imagine how cold it was during the night.  This observation supported my initial theory that these people are all crazy.

Jay got dressed and took a stroll, I waited in the warm car until start time.  No need for me to get cold, right?  When it was time to begin, I got Jay's cell phone ready and clicked a couple pictures of #364 amongst the rest of the crazies.

I had brought along knitting projects and a case of water.  I was set.  My job as Jay's 'crew' was to meet him at the checkpoints and have his stuff ready: shoes, endurance drink packet mixed with water, salt tablets, snack, ibuprofen, etc.  Jay asked his parents to come down, so they assisted me in my duties. Ha.  (Can you tell I'm trying to make myself sound important to make up for my total lack of desire to do something like this?)

I raced down to the 11-mile checkpoint and squeezed into a good spot up close.  Jay would pass through this one twice, and then I would return to the Start/Finish line for the halfway point.  I thought Jay looked pretty good after 10.9 miles, but he was done with the hat for a while.  It was 'too hot.'  

10.9 miles in.

I was glad when Jay picked this bright yellow/green to wear because I just knew he would be easy to spot amongst the crazies.  Fact is, a lot of crazies wear this color...and are bald...and wearing black running tights...But he always found us.

Jay's parents arrived in time for him to come back through this checkpoint.  He sat down, ate a snack and headed back towards the Start/Finish line.  I should have explained that the Tunnel Hill Trail is an old railroad bed they transformed into a really, really nice and beautiful trail for runners and bikers. It is absolutely gorgeous.  There are several bridges along the path and some huge rock walls (at least that's what I would call them) and then the super cool tunnel.  In the day, they didn't want to build a train track over a very large hill/mountain, so they tunneled through it.  Hence the name of the trail :)

That is a picture of the tunnel along the trail.

At the halfway point, I could tell that Forrest was struggling a bit.  I also knew enough about him that if he sat too long, he might not be able to get up.  He sat long enough to change shoes, eat a snack, and get a refill of his water bottle.  Off he went.   And more prayers I sent.

26.2 miles in - that marathon he was not interested in running.

I met him at an in-between checkpoint to see if the change in shoes helped and he gave me the 'thumbs up' signal and away we went.  Next stop was the Tunnel Hill.

40 miles down, 10 to go.  Hat back on.

It was at this point, 40 miles down, that I knew he would finish.  I told his parents that sheer determination would carry him the remaining 10 miles.  It was also at this point, his dad suggested he take his headlamp and he refused.  By 5:00, it was completely dark and I was debating on whether I should try to meet him at a small aid station and hand over the headlamp, but decided it was sort of his fault he didn't take it...so he would just have to finish in the dark or find a running buddy.

Jay's parents and I got out of the car at about the 9 hour 30 minute mark.  Jay's goal had been to run the 50 miles in 10 hours, but no more than 12.  We had no idea where he would fall in that window, but decided to be safe and get out in the cold and wait at the finish line.  Because it was completely dark, it was very hard to tell if that next runner was Jay because he did not have a light.  It started sleeting/snowing, which was just fantastic for the spectators...and the runners, of course.

At 9 hours and 58 minutes, we were worried he was running out of time.  You just never know what has happened in the last 10 miles, if the darkness was a problem, if his knees finally gave out, etc. And then I saw that runner with the distinguishable swinging of the arms.  That is how I could pick him out of the crowd of crazies.  His actual finish time was 10:03:01. I wanted to take a picture of him crossing the finish line, so the picture I took of the clock was a little late.

Just crossing the finish line.

I'm 10 seconds off.

I was so proud of Jay.  He did what he set out to do, which is so like him.  He is determined.  He was only over his time by about three minutes, which he probably could have squeezed out at the end, but hey, when you're running ten hours, what is another three minutes?!  He finished in a vertical position and we didn't have to visit the emergency room, which is seriously what I was afraid of.  It was a victory.

#364 with his medal.

As soon as we were on our way back to the car, he says to me, "You know what this means, don't ya? I've got to do the 100 miler next."  (I suggested he pick a spring or early fall run for that one.)  I really don't get it. I guess it's like an addiction or something, I don't know.  But let me tell you, these runners are all kinds of crazy.

My Very Own Forrest Gump

A few years ago, my BFF started running.  He started out like most, running area 5K's but kept rolling his right ankle.  Although many years had passed since high school, Jay's ankles had not recovered from the torment they suffered in football, basketball and baseball.  He went and had complete ankle reconstruction on his right ankle, and as soon as possible, jumped right back into running.

And like Forrest, he just kept running.

Mville Ag Fair 5k 2012

Sometime in the last 12-18 months I recall him telling me, "Sarah, I have no desire to run a marathon."  Fine by me.  (That makes two of us!)

Fast forward to this past Spring.  He tells me he is signing up for this Tunnel Hill Trial 50/100 Mile Run in November.  WHAT?!  (Did you forget the whole I-have-no-desire-to-run-a-marathon statement?)  Last time I checked a marathon was 26.2 miles.  This was double that! He thought it would be great because the Tunnel Hill trail is in our favorite corner of the world (Southern Illinois), it was so close geographically-speaking, and he had plenty of time to train. In June, we headed down there to check the trail out.  It was beautiful, of course, at least the 6.5 miles the kids and I rode our bikes on while Jay ran.

He decided sometime mid-summer he would run a 30-mile trail run in October to help prepare for the 50-mile.

Every chance he had, he was running.  He would take the truck or car to be serviced in Casey and he would run home.  He would run into a ball game or home from one.  He often ran to church on Wednesday nights.  On the weekends, he would have his big runs and if possible, I would go with him on the bike.  We did a few long runs/rides at our local state park together.  And sometimes he would go out to the Lake north of town and run on their bike trails.  He trained pretty hard most of the summer.

Then his silly left foot/ankle/heel started becoming a problem.  He tried various methods to ease the pain and stress, went to the foot doctor, let off on the running a bit and finally decided nothing was going to work, he would just have to run through the pain.  Makes perfect sense, doesn't it?

He completed the 30-mile trail run in about six hours.  It was treacherous, up and down hills, muddy, cold and rained a couple times.  I did a lot of praying during those six hours that he would finish in one piece.  He finished, we got in the car, drove straight home, showered, packed and headed to St. Louis for a wedding reception.  All the while, I think his body was in shock.

His knee, which he had never had problems with, suffered the most after that trail run, although his foot and heel were still causing him pain.  He pretty much laid off the training during the four weeks between the 30-mile and the 50-mile runs.  He knew that would hurt him on one hand, but on the other, his body needed some rest.

Last Wednesday, we were talking about the heel and I decided to research what the essential oils could do for his plantar fasciitis.  I had put a couple oils on his heel a few times, but he didn't seem to notice much relief.  I tried again and he was amazed.  I showed him the oil combo and told him to oil up every few hours until his big day.  (It was only three days, but hey...)

Last Friday mid-afternoon we headed south to Vienna, Illinois to pick up his registration packet and settle into our hotel.

Stay tuned for the rest of the story...

Crazy Cat Lady

This past Friday, the world lost someone who contributed to society, wholeheartedly.  My friend, Anna O - double R- E- double L (as her ornery father, my teacher, would say) slipped out of this world leaving a 17 year old son and three beloved cats.  Anna was only 41.  She had battled cancer, at least twice, was going to be battling it again soon, and had the worst luck when it came to health issues.  The fight was constant.  Yet, she put up such a good front.

I met Anna back in high school when her father was a teacher and coach at MHS.  He was such a stinker.  (I wrote about him when he passed away a few years ago.)  It was a love/hate relationship with Mr. O, but he has a terrific wife and a wonderful daughter.  We weren't close friends by any means, but she was the type of person that you might see only every now and then but have the best conversation when we ran into each other.  I never passed up the opportunity to talk to her.

Anna & I 'fighting' at the wresting match.

I remembered this picture of Anna and I (the only one that exists probably) from a few years back when our high school sponsored a wrestling match.  She had bought her son front-row tickets and they were down there soaking it in.  There wasn't anything Anna would not sacrifice for her son, it was evident in every decision she made for him.

Anna was a cat lover, probably the biggest cat lover I know.  She had three cats and only one of them, it's my understanding, is friendly to anyone but Anna.  So sad.  Those kitties, I'm sure, are wondering where their loving mama went.  I cannot love on my kitties right now without instantly thinking of my friend, the Crazy Cat Lady.

She got me hooked on Downton Abbey and I loved running into her at the Yarn store (she lived right upstairs).  She was a knitter, which goes right along with the cat obsession, huh?  She always had a smile on her face and was so loyal to her close friends.

The day before she passed away, her Facebook post was all about finding a child in need to give her son's brand new X-Box to.  She and her son had talked and decided there was someone out there who needed more than her son.  Again, that was so Anna.

I once sent her a link to the song "Stronger" by Matthew West because when I heard it, I thought of her.  This is the opening verse:

You must think I'm strong

to give me what I'm going through.

Well, forgive me if I'm wrong,

But this looks like more than I can do

On my own.

The whole song is great, but that first part was so Anna.  Thankfully, Anna was a believer.  She attended her Catholic church faithfully, and although she had some different views on things, I thought the world of her.  Her outlook on life was so positive all the time, even in light of the crud she was facing.  Her son meant everything to her (and her cats).  She had devoted this year to him as it was his senior year and she was going to do nothing but focus on him and his activities.  Then, she would take care of herself.  Unfortunately, her plan didn't work out that way.

That's the thing about this life...it's not about our plans, but His.  We can have all our ducks in a row, but it doesn't matter.   I will really miss her silly Facebook posts, kitty stories and proud mama pictures.  See you some day, Anna-Banana.

"We can make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps."  Proverbs 16:9

The bird and the tree frog

My son is such a stinker.  He is constantly pulling a fast one on me (as the Quackdaddy would say). He tells some of the tallest tales I have ever heard, and he is so serious, you don't realize he is making it all up...which is why I have such a hard time believing him anymore.

And brings to my story.

Jay was working nights and we were leaving for school one morning not to long ago.  We try to be quiet (you know how that is, every little sound is magnified by 100 when you're trying to be quiet) as we get ready for our day and leave...because Jay is just getting home and crawling into bed.

I was herding everyone out the door and had to go back to my bedroom for something.  When I came out, I heard Lane yell (quietly), "There's a bird," and then laugh.  I questioned what he meant by that, he smiled, like he does when he's pulling my leg, shut the door to the garage and went back out to the car.

I go to grab my jacket off the back of the bar stool (aka coat tree) and a bird flew past my head.   He wasn't joking this time. Snap.

The kids are in the car.  Jay is in bed.  We really need to be leaving for school/work.  And whatever I do, I need to be quiet.

I start trying to shoo the bird out and realize there are no doors or windows open.  The bird is flying all over the place looking for an escape.  It keeps hitting the kitchen window.  I run over to open the patio door, grab a broom and start swinging.  It sails out the door.  Hallelujah.  Leaving the bird in the house would not have went over well with two cats in the house and a sleeping giant.

Monday, we are getting ready for school/work and I tell Lane to take a shower.  He casually says, "Okay, but I'm not taking one in my bathroom."  To which I reply, "Why not?"  "Because there is a frog on the toilet."

Yeah, whatever.

He takes his shower in my bathroom, we eat breakfast, get dressed and are gathering our things to leave...when I run in to use his bathroom and there it is, a tree frog hugging the base of the toilet.

I know sometimes it sounds like we live in a cage, you know, with wires for walls and no ceiling, but we don't really, I promise.

I guess you could say we operate under an open door policy...