C.: Well, the giant guard bunny caught me, so now I’m in The Kennel, where I used to work. I know that guard bunny is a mean son of a buck, so I just surrendered. Tucker will wire d.c. the money, and I’ll be out of here by tomorrow morning. In the meantime, I have time to catch up on my reading. Let’s see, where was I…oh, yes, chapter three of BEYOND THE THIRTEENTH MILE: THE IRON MAN CHRONICLES. It’s called “What Would Mary Do?”
CHAPTER THREE: WHAT WOULD MARY DO?
1000: Bike leg; mile 30:
Should I take my first pack of vitamins now? Sugar Mountain is coming up. It’s a 15% grade. This is a six-loop course. That means we must climb that steep hill, under our own power, six times. Construction crews knock hills down on roads now so that a car or truck won’t have as difficult of a time climbing hills that are as steep as Sugar Mountain, and I’ve gotta climb this hill on a bicycle and under my own power!
Let me think… I have three packets of vitamins. 112 + 26 - 37 is... 101. Divided by three is… about 33 more miles before I take the next packet. I’ll wait until the next transition area to take the last one. It’s a little early, but I need something. It’s really hot. Especially for October. I’m getting a little tired.
Some of these triathletes look as if they’re getting a little discouraged. They need some encouragement. I wish my friend Mary was here. She would encourage all of us to keep going...
***
It had been a busy day, as most days are in our fast-paced 21st century. My next triathlon was only eight days away. It would be a good measure of where I stood in my training, since this course had been designated as a testing ground for Olympic hopefuls.
The swim was to be my first competitive swim in the open water, a 500-meter distance with each age group starting in waves five minutes apart. The bike leg was a 22-mile ride on a busy highway that was only partially closed. The run leg, although it was only three miles long, was what really had me worried, though. I had been having a lot of pain along the bottom of my foot, which I attributed to a simple, if painful, stone bruise. A three-week break between competitions did nothing to help it heal, however, and it kept getting worse. It will heal over enough time, I thought, I'll rest it after this race.
***
Adelina and I decided to do a 15-mile bike ride at the local park that morning, and I was fortunate to escape a confrontation with a 10-foot alligator that, luckily for me, was hunting small prey instead of a week’s worth of meals. Under different circumstances, the pain in my foot would have been the least of my worries. Fortunately, though, most alligators living in state parks aren’t aggressive toward humans, except during mating season. Since it was that time of year, I felt very lucky to have escaped this particular confrontation with a large male alligator unscathed. This also encouraged me to train hard enough to pedal my bike in excess of 30 mph, since that’s the speed that this large reptile can attain on land. (Author’s note: I actually did train myself to peddle at 32 mph for brief, thirty minute sprints with no wind at my back. Don’t try this at home, though, unless you’ve been training to do this for at least six months. I’m a well-conditioned athlete.) ***
After calling my father to wish him a happy birthday, I took my faithful companion, my four-year-old German shepherd mix, Annie, for a three-mile run. She had been greatly distressed that morning when she hadn't been allowed to accompany us to the park. She let her displeasure be known by whining at the fence until my truck pulled out of her sight, as far as I can tell.
Annie was a good dog and had been an ideal addition to my life when I needed someone or something to care for the most—right after my divorce. She had gotten me through some major disappointments since then—a couple of broken relationships and a broken engagement, amongst other things. Sometimes, just a gentle nudge, a handshake (her favorite trick), or a "doggy kiss" and then a playful romp around the living room from her would put me in better spirits. On this blisteringly hot, humid August afternoon, however, Annie decided that discretion was the better part of valor and bolted for home halfway through our run. I couldn't really blame her, either.
Not even Annie could get me through what was to happen that day, though. I got an unexpected phone call in the middle of the afternoon.
"Jed, did you hear about Mary?" came Betty's question from the other end of the line.
"Yes," I said. "I knew she was moving. Was it this weekend?" I asked.
"Well, yes, Mary was moving." Betty hesitated, and my heart and stomach sank in the next instant. “Last night, around midnight," she continued haltingly, “Mary and her daughter were driving through Amarillo, and the driver of an SUV lost control of his vehicle in the rain. That caused him to jump the median. The accident totaled Mary's car, and Mary was killed instantly. Her daughter, who was driving, is in a coma in critical condition.
“What is even sadder,” Betty continued, "is that her teenage son, who was riding in the moving truck with his uncle, ran back to the car after watching the accident in the rear-view mirror. He found them both, not knowing if either was dead or alive."
"I-I didn't know," I stammered painfully over the lump in my throat.
"Yes," said Betty, "Mary was a sweetheart."
These words, through our shock, couldn't do justice to our feelings about Mary. She was, without a doubt, the gentlest, kindest woman I had ever known—the epitome of what a Christian lady should be.
In the beautiful eulogy that her best friend, Leta, gave her at her funeral, Leta paid the highest compliment I have ever heard said about anyone. ''In the ten-plus years that I’ve known Mary," Leta tearfully began, "I’ve never heard her say one bad word about anyone."
If there’s one quote I would like to be said by my best friend at my funeral, I reflected, that would be it. Even though I had only known Mary for two years, as I thought back, I could never remember her saying a negative word about anyone or anything.
At Mary's wake, many of her friends (including me) were shocked to learn that she had suffered from the chronic illness of lupus. She was moving to Colorado to be in a milder climate, since this disease can affect one’s lungs (as well as one’s other internal organs) negatively. Mary, apparently, was struggling with this aspect of the chronic illness. She had never complained to anyone about anything, so this took most of us by surprise. Eerily, before she moved, she had made one of her other close friends promise that he would sing her favorite song at her funeral. Joe had reluctantly agreed, after much coaxing from Mary.
Although Joe choked up when he was trying to sing the song, he recovered and sang “Resting Place'' beautifully in memory of his promise to his close friend.
I remembered later that I’d had the privilege of riding to a five-kilometer fun run with Mary. I had been extremely disappointed with my time. Mary, however, who had walked the whole course, was so happy to have finished that she wanted to record her time for perpetuity. I just wanted to forget mine. My time was a lot slower than I had planned on running.
Recalling this, I declared to myself, This race is for Mary.
I decided to do the course as Mary lived her life, enjoying every moment of it and encouraging people along the way, no matter what happened or how I felt.
C.: I’m free! Tucker posted my bail. I’ll finish this chapter later in the week, or next Sunday.
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