Freihofer’s and 50
There have really only been a couple of moments in my life when my heart has just opened up with joy, when there has been literally a lifting, a lightness in my chest , and I have just been consumed with the joy of that moment, and the tears just flowed right out. I don’t mean “happy feet this is so cool,” I mean Spike finally feeling his soul. One of them was when Hannah was born. Another was on Saturday, when I saw my little girl coming up on the three mile mark in the Freihofer’s — healthy, happy, running hard and doing well, smiling and waving at me as she went on down the hill toward the finish. I just cried. A little 10-year-old with asthma who decided on her own she was going to do this thing, did all the training and the intramurals to get ready for it, running down the road with her running partner and with plenty left to give — it was heartbreakingly wonderful. Her final time: 36:26, in a field of more than 3600 women (“a river of fit women,” as the announcer put it at one point). No single thing she has done has ever made me so proud as her entering and finishing that race. Now she truly knows what she can do, how she can challenge herself. She’s already talking about next year. Plus, she patiently waited in line and got the winner, Marla Runyan, to sign her bib. Very cool.
As for me, took the weekend off from training, but got back on yesterday and rode a half-century, down to Chatham and back. I’ve decided to quit my job and become a proselytizer for Aerobars, the handlebar extensions that let you lean forward over your wheel and maintain an aerodynamic tuck while keeping control of the bike. Made huge improvements in my game, and my average speed in to Chatham, at 25 miles, was 16.3mph, phenomenally fast for me. Then, and I’m not making this up, enormous gusts of wind kicked up and stayed up throughout the afternoon, so the push back was much slower, though I managed to stay on the bike and came in at the end of 50.5 miles with a 14.6mph average speed. Just about normal for me.
The coyote’s head is still where it was, and that dead raccoon on Red Mill Road isn’t smelling any better….