I haven't written here in a while. Lack of motivation, inspiration for the most part. Injury, recovery, spring mania.I found some of my voice again this weekend.
- The joy of watching a relatively new runner accomplish, finding personal limits, doing more than she thinks she can do. Somehow this renews the spirit, and reminds me why I started down this road.
- The excitement of a 'big race' in a 'bigger town.' The night before nerves, getting up early, seeing dawn rise, boarding buses. The long lines, the slow start.
- The funny, mildly eccentric people watching The barefoot kilt wearing guy. The red haired girl running on her toes.
After the race, I was walking back to my hotel for a shower and change. Met a woman, about my age obviously struggling a bit. We found conversation, exchanged some pleasantries. She obviously did not have a good race. In mile 9 of 12.4, she felt pain in her legs and started walking. She trained well. She did not understand. Could not find the food or drink. Almost crying in pain. Couldn't remember where her car was.
Sounded like her training was right. New shoes, same model as previous. Got her some fluids, some mild pain relief. Walked block upon block, looking for where she parked. Stretching, stopping looking. She's from Des Moines, but knows our area. She runs the Bix.
We found her car, a minivan. I suspect she was a mom, but I didn't ask. An awkward moment. We each had a race bib, had run the same race. It was ok. I was a 'safe' man. I give her a hug, stayed until she was in the car and on her way. Strangers, never going to see each other again. I don't remember asking her name, or if she gave it I don't recall what it was.
To watch profound joy, and profound sadness in the same day. To reach and struggle and work, and to watch one walk away with a feeling of accomplishment, to watch another stagger back in disappointment.
This day I was an observer, not putting myself on the line for personal best. Knowing that again my day will come, the public spectacle of race day. Real life, lived without certainty of outcome. I remember now why we do this. For the risk of feeling deeply, one way or another.
Be well today.
-Larry
