Sand in my running shoes

This morning when I put my running shoes on, they felt all soft and lumpy. Taking off my right shoe, I smiled when I found some Seaside sand from our finish of the Hood To Coast Relay last weekend....the second one for me and also for Bruce, who drove the van both years - a hard job because he can't relax and he is a good sport about it. The Hood to Coast has about 1000 vans with 6 runners per van - that's a lot of vans and a lot of runners. The one picture here is me just before my first leg on a bike path in downtown Portland at 11 PM or so. The other is of our team at Mt. Hood, getting ready to send our first runner down the hill.

What an experience! How lucky can you be, at 54 and almost 55, to be able to run 15+ miles in a 24 hour period with no sleep? And do 8.5 minute miles besides? Life is good for sure. I know it isn't all about luck cause I work hard to keep running. The luck part is probably in having my dad's good strong Finnish genes and a lot of SISU. I always feel guilty for spending so much money traveling to run a relay (or any of the other races I go to) stuffed in a van with 6 other sweaty people. But only for a minute. Something about the teamwork involved in this event is very gratifying and the strategy in getting to the next spot is challenging. It is all worth it or am I just saying that because it is over? Staying up all night makes me feel young like a crazy college student but my body tells me that I am not. And spending all this time in our running clothes put us on more equal ground. I know many of these folks lead different (not necessarily better) lives than me, but this weekend we have in common a love of running with friends and even with people we just met.

I was in the second van and the second to the last runner so had a long time to wait till it was my turn to run through the dark bike trail somewhere in downtown Portland. This was a four plus mile run at around 11pm and all I could really see was the eerie bouncing lights of other runner's headlight. It was great being out there at a time when I usually was in bed. I caught up with a young girl and we chatted in the dark. I knew she was younger but I am not sure she knew I was older.

The second leg I was another 4.3 miler. I don't even know where I was, but it was 12 more runners closer to Seaside and the ocean. It was around 8 am and misty-foggy out and everything was cool and green. The air smelled so good and before I knew it I was around the corner and finished. A pancake and egg breakfast awaited me and it tasted so good after a day of peanut butter and jelly and gatorade.

We had a break before our next legs and headed down the road. My final run and second to the last run of the relay, took place on an old logging road with no cars, and the smell of lumber. It was fitting because my dad was a lumberjack and it was 2 years to the day that he had died. He probably was there with me, naming all the different trees. That was a 7.4 mile run and I finished a little slower - 9 minute miles, but my legs were a little rubbery and pretty ticked off that I had subjected them to such abuse.

We drove to Seaside with no time for me to stretch and dry off a bit. We had to meet Ruth, our final runner at the ocean. We got there in time, had pictures taken, got our medals and had a beer and a lousy hamburger that tasted good at the time. And obviously we got sand in our shoes.

For that brief 27 hour period, I forgot that my friend Bob plans to discontinue life support on September 22nd, and that my mom and in laws are very fragile. I forgot that I am fragile too.

This weekend I will run a 1/2 marathon and feel lucky to do that. I hope to run as long as I can for no other good reason than because I can.