Today I was astonished when my spirits were boosted immeasurably by participating in the 50-mile “Running Saint” achievement of my friends Milton S and Jim M. I joined their run/walk pace for ten and half miles and then rode my mountain bike back out later in the day and added another nine miles on foot. I was so caught up in supporting their effort that I forgot about anything else. It brought back all of the perceptions of my own “50-on-50th” milestone.
All I can think to do is to publish my 2002 journal entry that describes it:
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On Mother’s Day we took Mombo to the brass band concert at the bandstand in the courthouse park. It was nice— just like something that would’ve happened 50 years ago… or, more likely, 150 years ago. There are times when it’s a true joy to live small-town life to the fullest. It was a great day that started early. A few of us gathered to "share silence" at the cabin studio of my friend Mack, a surgeon, artist, sculptor, saxophonist, rock-fence builder, etc., etc. He’s just one of the superb people I’ve gotten to know since I’ve lived in Danville.
Now that I’m thinking of my good friends, I should proceed to bring this journal up to date concerning my landmark birthday run: Monday, 29 April 2002. How do I begin to tell the story of that day? So full of great experiences and memories of true friendship. More details in a moment… Let me first say that I was successful in meeting my self-challenge. I ran to the 50k mark (31 miles), and then I mostly walked to the end of my carefully planned 50-mile course. What a day to remember! 80.6 kilometers of forward momentum. The fulfillment of months of training, and one more isolated validation of Phil Maffetone’s fitness method…
The Saturday before, the 27th, Dana threw a birthday celebration for me, held at the “Grayson’s Tavern” of Constitution Square Historic Site in Danville. Most of my fitness companions, plus Clan, and a few longtime friends were there, and it was a success, too. Meg H, a major inspiration to me with my collage work, was there with husband Bob H, who took the legendary Grandy-bo "Bibs Portrait." Deb S and Bob B even drove down beyond the "dark and bloody river" during a storm, as did others, including Darby H and Uncle Art. My mom was clearly happy to be with her brother, who had just gotten through a life-threatening crisis caused by a serious seizure. Heavy rain cut attendance at the afternoon “open house” exhibition of my hand-crafted greeting cards. By evening, conditions were dry and over 80 showed up for the party. Dana outdid herself with the many preparations. Great food (we used my “famous” salmon that was caught on 9-11-01), great music, great conversation, and a great spirit of human warmth.
Personally, it was a magical night for me, and I was totally numb to be the center of attention. Everybody seemed to get a kick out of my cards. Two beers all night, but I was happier than if I’d drunk a dozen. Blew out the candles on the cake, took a goofy bow, and the whole sweet thing was over much too fast. I was so overwhelmed by it all that I realized later I’d missed a rare "Uncle Clarence Moment" to thank everyone for coming. I’ll have to trust they saw the appreciation in my eyes. There were many who could not be there in person, but certainly in spirit.
After a Sunday of good-byes to out-of-towners, exhibit documentation, and final cleanup at the Tavern, I managed to drive my impending 50-mile course — as the sun was trading places with a full moon — to distribute some hidden water bottles and Gatorade. And then it was on to bed, but I didn’t sleep that well… too nervous about the day to come.
The next day, my actual birthday, was a unique day in my life, is difficult to explain, and, of course, there’s probably no logical way to justify what I did. I started out at 5:45 am and began to run my course (with a cell phone to keep Dana aware, so she could communicate with friends). Two running pals were there to start out with me. Jeff T the banker ran the first two miles, but had to return to prepare for his work day. When I got out to my sister Jeanne’s house, Clansman Cliff had only one word for me— “SURVIVE!” Joni M (track coach, lawyer’s wife, and mother of three running sons) headed back to town at that point, and I continued out into the country, where I met up with Sarah H (CPA, doctor’s wife, and another mother of three running sons) and Ernst C-W (generous advisor and proprietor of the local cycle shop). When we got to the Jackson farm, I ran Mack’s soggy cross-country trails and had a “pit stop” at the cabin… changed into dry shoes and socks. The air was still raw enough that I borrowed Ernst’s gloves to continue on my way.
I took a lunch-and-stretching break (at almost 20 miles) after I’d eventually looped back to the Town House. I had some of Dana’s therapeutic kudzu-ginger-plum soup. It was nothing short of astounding when she brought in the mail and I’d gotten a postcard from Japan, wishing me good luck and happy birthday! It was from Yu Saito, my running companion throughout 2001, who had taken his family home in early March. She said, “the cosmos is in alignment,” and it gave me a great burst of optimistic enthusiasm. I just love these synchronicities of life…
And then I took off again, running north to the little town of Burgin, near historic Shaker country. The weather was pleasantly cool now, so I was comfortable in a short-sleeve shirt. The sky was gorgeous with puffy white clouds, and the familiar cattle and horse farms were the emerald green of Kentucky springtime. More friends came out to support me. Dick B (local running guru and a “50-on-50th” veteran), ran most of our traditional 10k route with me and I finished my 50k with strength. After a short rest I began again, with 50 total miles as my new goal. Milton S (Centre College religion scholar and Zen practitioner) was there to walk 10 miles with me. Jim L (wood artisan and retired insurance man) drove out to wish me well, and Bill S (tireless volunteer and retired corporate engineer) appeared on his bike to roll along with a birthday poem! It made all the difference in my will to keep going, because my stomach was becoming upset. I mentally clung to Cliff’s quotation after the 40-mile point, where I made a "180" and knew I had only the home stretch to downtown Danville and the finish line. As one can perhaps tell, I’d been able to link most of my favorite running venues into a day-long trek. The light at the end of the tunnel was visible, but my “handlers” were now becoming vital to my effort.
Fortunately, I had few complications. Thanks to some cautionary advice from my friend Eddy M (a urologist and another “50-on-50th” veteran), I had my liquid situation well planned. I didn’t get dehydrated, but I could’ve managed my fuel consumption better. Between 40 and 48 miles my legs held up well, but my vitality was depleted, so I slowed to 3 miles per hour, feeling chilled. I needed energy, but couldn’t hold down anything sweet. I tried to drink Gatorade and it came back up. I needed something gentle to my stomach. After Milton left, Jeff and Joni returned to assist. My problem-solving skills were squandered by then, so I needed their lucid thoughts to keep me moving forward safely toward home. They called Dana and she drove out with some whey protein powder mixed in rice milk— easy to digest —and it boosted me enough that I was able to run the last mile. By then I’d received my second birthday poem of the day (sung magnificently to the tune "Dixie" by the one-and-only Lee S) and Bill G (photo pro and financial advisor) had “taken the baton” to escort me in. Earlier he’d shot some pictures with a telephoto lens, which I haven’t seen yet. I didn’t last long on my feet after I reached home shortly after 9 pm. A hot bath, a leg massage, and a collapse into bed followed soon after!
Looking back with critical thinking, I should’ve gotten better prior rest, but, more importantly, I should’ve had a more coherent plan for my ongoing caloric intake and energy maintenance. Perhaps I should’ve trained more with something in keeping with my usual whole-foods diet, maybe honey or rice milk. I think I would’ve kept my momentum better and finished in less time, but all-in-all I did well and had only that one period of depletion. My muscles and joints held up fabulously. I just “ran out of gas.”
I felt fine and recovered remarkably fast over the next couple of days, with an occasional wave of fatigue. Only my feet were sore. I was active on Tuesday and went to watch niece Rita and Godson Nic at a high school track meet the following evening. Afterwards I accepted a hot tub invitation with Dana for a soak and some cold refreshment. The day after that (May 1st), I took most of the cards that had been on display at the Tavern and put together a new exhibit at the Boyle County Library, which will be up until the end of this month, and then we had severe weather come through Central KY. I am so thankful nothing like that happened on Monday the 29th. I could not have asked for a nicer day to do what I did on my birthday.
I’m feeling great, contemplating a new goal— maybe a duathlon or autumn marathon. It’s time to increase my weekly cycling mileage. As of yesterday I’ve lost 15 pounds since January (167 to 152). Clearly, I have transformed my aerobic metabolism. Friday night I decided to test my condition by running the local “Moonlight Mile.” I wondered if I had any speed left at all. It seemed like ages since I allowed myself to run hard. I thought perhaps I could break 8 minutes, but I had a 6:53.2 (with a strong kick). And then on Saturday morning I was able to do an uptempo 8-miler with the 7-am running group (with miles tapering from 8:10 to 9:37). This is very interesting. I feel a powerful need to test my fitness, but I don’t want to fall back into overtraining. Balance, as always, is the key.
And now the others are calling me the newest “Running Saint.” It is somewhat silly, but it feels like an honor, too. As Dick told me, “John, it becomes part of your personal character and integrity and no one can ever take it away from you.” I don’t think I could have imagined this when I first got my heart monitor a year ago. Much good change has happened, and there’s much to be learned and remembered, concerning the discipline of aerobic and dietary preparation, but I think the real story of my birthday experience is the team effort of good friends.
Building physical stamina lays a foundation for inner focus, which leads to mental toughness. From there, each individual athlete must find the hidden way to "guts" or "grit" (or whatever one chooses to call it— my Godfather always called it "the means"). It is a solitary discovery that must be made before the day is ultimately won— in my case, the 50-MILE-DAY —before those of us who reach for the ridiculous can know the "majestic sense of victory." For in that moment when one truly believes that an outrageous goal is possible, one gains something permanent, regardless of the outcome.
Maybe I should’ve stuck with the notion that there’s no rational explanation for having done this— an idea that I borrowed from Dick —but this is my best attempt at describing the prize that can never be taken away. Now that I’ve tried, I’m not sure it can be done without forsaking a certain humility. Forgive me if I have.
There are, without a doubt, many paths to that same Self-satisfaction. May we all trust our Selves to find one. May we all learn that each is merely one pale shade of Life’s eternal victory over sin, disease and death.
For all the kind words of encouragement… for every "thumbs up" or "high five" or simple smile of support… for each comrade on the road, I am grateful.
Here’s to my loving mate. Here’s to everyone who helped make it possible. Here’s to all of you. And to Yu… a heartfelt "Domo arigato gozaimashita."
And, finally, here’s to the big FIVE-OH!
