C.: Well, d.c. finished working on his truck, but he isn’t feeling well today. I think he has that chronic disease O-L-D. Anyway, I don’t feel like talking to myself today, so I’ll just go on with chapter eight of d.c. scot’s manuscript BEYOND THE THIRTEEENTH MILE: THE IRON MAN CHRONICLES. This chapter is called:
CHAPTER EIGHT: NOTHING EVER BELONGS TO YOU UNLESS YOU’RE ABLE TO GIVE IT AWAY.
1320: Bike leg; mile 80:
I’m over one-halfway done with the bike course, but most professional triathletes say that the run is one-half of the race. I guess I should save some energy for the run.
I know that I definitely won’t place in my division or in the overall rankings in this race, even if I hit my goal of 13 hours. That’s okay. I just want to finish. A finisher’s medallion will prove I did. That would make a good cover for my book!
I won’t be giving this medal away. Wait, what was it Ernest Hemingway said about that? Well, this finisher’s medal is something I’ll keep for the rest of my life, unlike the first medal I ever earned for placing in my division…
***
My favorite author, Ernest Hemingway, once said he believed that nothing ever really belonged to you unless you were able to give it away. That’s why, every New Year’s Day, Hemingway would take his prized possession and give it to the person he felt would most enjoy it.
***
In my entire life, I had never received a medallion, ribbon, or trophy for my individual athletic prowess even though I participated in every sport I was able to as a young teenager. The closest I had ever come to winning an athletic award was to share a team trophy for a conference or divisional championship or to be given a token award such as "most improved" on a team. Add to this the fact that I considered myself to be an average distance runner at best, and you will begin to understand how strange the following chain of events seemed to me.
After recovering sufficiently from my biking injury, I resumed running, to push on toward my goals. Since my shoulder had been damaged in my accident, swimming and cycling weren't yet comfortable for me. However, running didn't seem to bother my upper body much. My upper body was the part that had taken the brunt of my fall, leaving my legs relatively unscathed.
A brand-new 10k fun run was born that year, and several people with whom I ran and socialized expressed interest in doing the run and/or the accompanying 10k walk. I reasoned that, with enough effort, I could at least finish the run. That, in itself, would be an accomplishment, as far as I was concerned.
A big plus to me was that part of the run course would be a cross-country type of run, which suited me fine. I grew up on a small cattle ranch in Mississippi, and I would run the hills on the ranch to strengthen my legs for playing football and running track (not well enough to wrest a trophy away from a faster, smaller city dweller, though).
An unusual thought occurred to me on the ride to the run with Gabe and Joseph, my friend and mentor when it came to both exercising and life in general. If I do win a trophy, I know what I'm going to do with it. This was a strange thought, since only the top three in each age group—male and female categories—are awarded a trophy.
My strategy for the race was to pace on Joseph as long as I could. I stayed on his heels until the third water stop, or about one-half of the way through the run. Joseph is an experienced marathon runner, and I knew then that there was no point in me trying to keep up with him any longer. I let him disappear out of my sight.
With a 20-mile-per-hour wind blowing in my face on the last part of the course, I realized that two other smaller runners were using me to shield them from the wind. This strategy helps a runner save his/her energy for a last-second, frantic sprint to the finish line. This didn’t sit too well with me, and I felt the anger beginning to build up inside. I used the negative energy to fend off the “dynamic duo" for about another mile, until the smaller one passed me. Seeing the finish line as well as my rabbit (a woman in a Houston Marathon jacket that I tried to pace on after Joseph left me), I gathered all my strength.
As I started into a blind sprint, I heard the slower of the now not-so-dynamic duo shout, "Run, Roger, run.” I passed Roger just before hitting the finish line and finished two steps behind my rabbit.
Since neither Joseph nor I were impressed with our own times, we decided to join our friends for the 10k walk, playing "Lewis and Clark" for the other walkers, marking the path along the way. Since the run and walk were both in their inaugural year, the walk course wasn’t clearly marked. Joseph and I scouted the area first, leading our entourage toward the finish line—or so we hoped. None of us were familiar enough with our surroundings to “feel out” the walk course. It’s fortunate that, according to some, I have a good nose for direction.
Upon our return, Gabe informed Joseph and me that the race officials needed to see us both. Gabe had been gracious enough to drive us to the run. And since the run was in a rustic setting, he took the opportunity to hone his blossoming photography skills.
Gabe informed us that we had both placed in our division, with Joseph taking first in his and me third in mine. Knowing Gabe as well as I did, I knew that he had a tendency to be a bit of a practical joker. My first inclination was to ignore him altogether and go on about my life. However, pride got the better of me, and I decided to check with the officials. They confirmed what Gabe had told us, and I knew just what to do with my new prize.
I made a quick telephone call to Nicole, letting her know that I had something I would like for her to have. I took my trophy to her house that night, handing it to her as I walked in the door. I quoted Earnest Hemingway's words as I did this.
(Aside: Nicole’s four-year-old son, Seth, would later commandeer my prized possession from his mother, apparently thinking it was one of his youth sports trophies. Perhaps he thought I had intended it for him. In any case, the sentiment was still understood and appreciated by Nicole.)
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