JFK 10 Complete

JFK Number 10 is complete.

There have been only a few times in my life that I been so consumed by an event. While it may be perfectly normal to have a case of “The Nerves” prior to anything we deem important I have been obsessed for months.

There are rare moments in life when everything comes together to produce the extraordinary; Saturday November 23, 2013 was one of them.

Early in the week the weather forecast for Saturday looked bleak. Rain, Wind and Cold would have meant a long and miserable fifty miles. By Thursday the forecast was much better, yes there might be some cold and wind but it would hold off until the end of the day. The forecast was right on the money and for me, almost perfect.

My week long pre-race preparation went even better than planned starting off with a fantastic Monday nine mile hike up Old Rag Mountain in Virginia. Sleep was hard to come by but the diet was on target even if my planned “illness” wasn’t enjoyable.  

Saturday morning I felt good, the best I have felt in weeks. Legs were “fired up” just itching for running, Achilles happy and GI Track quiet. Sue and I left the house at 5:15, and for the first time in quite some time I felt like “I can do this”. My running partner, Craig and I agreed we would run “our own races” as both of us would be dealing with issues.

The entire portion of the race to the C&O Canal things could not have gone better. My plan was to slow down, aiming to reach the canal in about three hours. I was there in three hours and five minutes. With Sue waiting for me I was able to get a change of shoes, hot broth and baked potato chunks rolled in salt. A hug and a kiss later I headed off to “Meet the Beast”, the C&O Canal.

The canal is my nemesis, as a trail runner I don’t have the training for the repetitive motion that canal or road running demands. Though I train on the C&O for months previous to JFK it’s not enough and often this becomes apparent during the race, today would be no exception.

I felt good as I started on the canal but not quite as good as I had hoped, I wasn’t tired or sore but my legs did not want to move any faster than they had on the Appalachian Trail, even so, this was a pace that, if kept up would let me finish somewhere around ten hours.

Twenty four miles into the race all was well, I was at a relaxed pace, one I thought I could keep up forever when “Crunch”.

There was no immediate pain, nothing that screamed “What the Hell”, yet, just like laying on the ground after a fall, thinking “This is Going to Hurt” I knew my left knee would “speak”, it was only a matter of time. When pain started it was pinpoint, while uncomfortable, workable. When the pinpoint expanded, radiating downwards towards my already questionable Achilles tendon I knew it was time to walk. As time progressed walking a minute or so would allow me to run slowly for several minutes, this was a pattern I would repeat over and over again.

Not the hero I indulged in pain medication, not enough to get completely rid of the pain but enough to keep everything tolerable.

At mile thirty I was joined by son Patrick who would pace me for four or five miles. It was the first time any of my children had run with me at JFK which made it very special. I must admit to asking for a piggy back ride but as Patrick pointed out, it probably would have slowed our progress down.

At mile thirty eight two of my running friends, Larry Key and John Kippen meet me to “bring me home”, I was grateful. The pain medication was working enough to allow some running but more important the presence of my friends kept my head in a good place.

Finally, the end of the canal, with a quick handshake and hug Larry turned around and ran four miles back to his car; John would run the final eight miles with me.

When you leave the canal there is hill immediately “In Your Face”, some runners might feel this a special type of torture but I welcome it. Not only do I like trudging up the hill I look forward to rounding the first turn to see a stranger, the one who sets up a table complete with snacks and cups of cold beer. Yes, at mile forty two I’ll allow myself to indulge with a beer. Someday, I’m going to have to drive down that road and leave a case for that kind gentleman.

John talked me in (and others) the last eight miles, as each mile marker was vanquished I could be privy to another story. Perhaps story number sixty two or story number something or other that Kimball Byron and he couldn’t repeat out loud. As we passed or were passed by other runners there was always a “Hello, where are you from?” coming from John. This was just fine with me for all I had to do was to listen.

Three miles to go, it was getting dark, it was getting cold, it was windy and I was well of my mark. Three miles ahead a number of people stood in the wind, getting cold, wondering and waiting for at the finish.

Ironic isn’t it, while friends and family shivered I was actually quite warm and comfortable.

One mile to go John, had me kiss the mile marker, a tradition he had been carrying on for many of his JFK finishes. “Upper Left Hand Corner, has to be the Upper Left Hand Corner”, he said. I have to admit at that point in time it took a second to discern left from right. The marker, now “Happy” allowed John and I to trudge on to the finish.

How sweet that final hill, those bright lights, applause of the crowd, announcement of your name and the receipt of your medal. The hugs, handshakes, fist bumps and kisses as emotion builds to displace any pain or fatigue. The long walk back to the car, the ride home, the “I did it” phone calls, a cold beer, warm bath as all becomes a memory.

This journey started eleven years ago as a mid-life challenge, I have seen and come through much since then. I have discovered during those years we are enriched by those around us far beyond anything we can by our own efforts.

I will continue running but this may have been my final ultra-event. We will just have to wait and see.

How can I thank all of you who have made this moment happen, I simply cannot. To my wife, children, family and friends, my running companions who have endured TMI my deep appreciation and love. To the many others who have been instrumental in my battle over cancer also my deep appreciation and love.   

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Final Time 10:55:38    

Pacers: Patrick O’Grady / Larry Key / John Kippen

Waiting Crew: Susan / Kevin / Maggie / Larry / Craig / Debbie / Steve / Randy / Jim / Jon / Lisa