I’ve written three different versions of this blog post and have yet to capture the raw emotion that I felt the entire weekend and suppressed for four days, until I spoke to Annie tonight at length for the first time. So I’ll potentially post subsequent versions, but there are really not enough words, adjectives and emotional context to capture everything.
The first night, Thursday was warm with fellowship, like so many times in the past at Hood to Coast as we come together to celebrate running together and living life together each year. I saw faces I’ve not seen for over a year and in some cases even longer, nothing compares to direct human contact, Facebook and email are great, but in person is the humanity we all know and crave.
Friday was filled with preparation, anxiety, anticipation, more fellowship and a sense of peace that I am among people I care about and admire. I was asked to give grace at dinner Friday and while I was taken off guard and jumbled words at the dinner table struggling to put feelings I had into words, I was simply grateful for the presence of these people around the table and the others breaking bread a few miles away.
Saturday brought a solemn reminder of the bond we all share as Randy read a passage from Shakespeare to start off the race. The entire team and crew gathered round as he read his passage and I was moved immeasurably by the words he spoke and the togetherness I felt. We witnessed heroic efforts all day long in the searing heat across treacherous terrain, terrain these fellows hadn’t experienced in their life. The stories from the trails as each member arrived at the aid stations, built overwhelming pride and admiration for their efforts, courage, self discovery and renewal. They would all be rewarded in their own way come Sunday. Pamela confirmed for me, what I already knew about her, she is a strong woman with unbounded enthusiasm and a heart of solid gold. I made a personal discovery of my own; I really like fixing people, attending to their medical needs. I fixed a lot of feet and that felt good, I think I’ve found my second calling and could very easily see myself as an EMT after my career in software.
Saturday, late afternoon, I took up the charge with Steve, pacing him the last 50 miles and was already in deep admiration for all that he had already accomplished. The entire team had peered into the abyss of their soul to find resolve in continuing on, I was fresh and ready to contribute in any way possible to get him home. I found myself giggling at times, when we were consumed by a deluge of rain, hail and lightening as the sun found the horizon on Saturday night. Those compact ponchos came in handy for sure, but I was transported back to childhood and all the times I had explored the wooded meadows and hills around the various homes I occupied growing up, only this time I was with another brother, someone that I had shared so many memories with and was now creating endurable more on this soulful journey. We survived, we persevered, we found hope and support in Pamela at every aid station. Running at night is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. There’s just you and the headlamp and your runner and his, the silence is deafening. The path, the journey is peppered with unwavering obstacles that must be overcome and we moved among the sounds of the night like ghosts and in some instances a bit more human with every stub of the toe on a stump or rock. As Saturday turned into Sunday, the light began filling the sky and I was giggling again as we crossed the creek five times using ropes as we plunged waist deep into the frigid, yet refreshing water.
Sunday morning brought joy and jubilation as we entered the second to last manned aid station. We sat by the fire, conversed with friends, changed clothes, filled our bellies and undertook the last part of the journey. The journey isn’t so much about that finish line when you’re talking about a 100 mile race, yet more so about how much your physical body is willing to listen to your mind. All throughout the night I was witness to a man pushing beyond his physical limits to complete his journey, for that I am grateful. Steve is in a word “driven” and will push himself beyond all physical restrictions to achieve whatever is in front of him. His body gave him everything and more. He had overcome so much to even be at the starting line of this race, I was humbled in so many ways. Steve never wavered, at each aid station he thanked volunteers, calmly asked me to perform minor surgery on his blisters, kissed his wife and set out again and again. I’ve never seen such resilience, determination and enthusiasm. I learned a lot from him this weekend. In fact I learned a lot from all the runners Paul, Randy, Scott, Todd, Seth and Barry.
Tears welled as I left him to run ahead after nearly 90 miles, I was running to the next manned aid station without him to get support. I saw in his eyes the desire and the will, but sometimes our physical being is too human, too fragile to meet our mental and emotional capacity. I ran as hard as I could to get there, remembering all that we had conquered together through the night, knowing that this would not be the last time. Steve is unstoppable in so many ways, professionally and personally. He is force to be reckoned with on any level. This race did not do anything more than further shape that fortitude and resilience.
As I read this, I am still not capturing all the emotions I felt throughout the weekend, I just don’t have the words or the prose to fully communicate the impact this had on me, my life, my relationships, my friendships and my upcoming race at Leadville. What I can say is that if they can make it to Leadville, I’d like to have them there to bring me back to this experience. As I will remember it on my own, their presence will undoubtedly be a huge benefit to the experience.
In the end the AD4AP team raised over $90,000 in a few short months, conquered and endured on their own terms, feats they’d never done before. Bless you, you Band of Brothers.
“Endurance is not just the ability to bear a hard thing, but to turn it into glory.” – William Barclay
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