I settled in the second coral and watched the swiftest runners, including Chris, dart off over the horizon. I was envious of how effortless those most talented runners make things look, even though I knew from Chris how hard they are actually working. These are men and women of regular flesh and bone who suffer and struggle just like the rest of us. The illusion of their lack of strain is just that, an illusion. As for me, I ran with all the grace of a Mack Truck. Sweat drenched me even before I started actually running and it literally poured over me like a salty ocean wave before I reached the end of first mile. I marveled at myself that I could find this totally normal. Runners are different from the air-conditioned masses who smartly seek shelter from such oppressive conditions. We actually pay our hard-earned cash for the privilege of running in the worst conditions mother nature can throw at us. I settled in and targeted some of my fellow runners to hang with in the hope that they would drag me
along with them, at least mentally. Sometimes I passed them, sometimes I fell back, and sometimes I just maintained our distance. It was a long game of cat and mouse that ate up the miles before, at last, the finish line came into view. I mustered whatever strength I had and sprinted toward the finish. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one with that idea as whole groups of runners jostled with one another to pick up or lose a spot or two in the final rankings. After crossing the line, I was bent over, breathless. Chris was off in the distance doing his cool down after outlasting the competition to finish first overall by the slimmest of margins. After I recovered, Chris and I turned back and jogged along the course in the opposite direction to support my wife, Christina, and daughter Rebecca. Along the way I tried to encourage everyone I saw still struggling along the super-heated course. I have always believed that runners are unique among athletes since they are often moved to encourage all the other competitors in the race, no matter if they are in front or back. It’s part of what makes our sport so special.
As for me, I ran with all the grace of a Mack Truck.
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