The Tube Sock Guy: I'm Gonna Crawl...

The grueling summer months had come and gone. Bearing the heat was certainly a challenge all its own, but I had finally arrived to the milder days of September. This month would mark the next series of races for me in Bird-in-Hand, Pennsylvania…an Amish town outside of Lancaster hosting a Saturday night 5K and Sunday morning Half Marathon. A month or so leading up to this I had an idea for a race shirt thanking all my friends and family by putting their names on the back of my shirt with a “13.1” logo on the front. It came out perfect and couldn't wait to unveil it on race day. I had signed up for the Fireman’s Challenge which meant that I did both 5K and Half Marathon races that weekend. Bonnie joined me for the 5K and we had a nice casual run through the farmland but held back as I didn't want to burn off too much energy before the next morning’s journey.

The next morning...evidently this was the RACE area

The next morning came early because all these races seem to have to start by 7:00am…evidently hardcore runners are morning people. Before signing up for a race I like to scan over the elevation graph that is included in most distance races to see what I would be getting myself into. While the Amish tend to migrate to areas with consistent rolling hills as I had known from being around Ohio settlements, this particular course seemed to offer only mild terrain changes which was a nice surprise…boy was I wrong! A seasoned runner out on the course with us that morning categorized it as “Sneaky/Hilly”. I couldn't have agreed more, but was still very much enjoying it and at least the weather was cooperating…until mile 8 of course. The cloud cover could hold no longer and the sun’s rays came sharply down upon all of us…increasing the temperature quickly. Still one of the greatest things to date I have encountered on a course, bags of ice. We pounced on them quickly and proceeded to empty the cubes into our under armor for a reinvigorating effect. The icy rush was enough to help propel us forward as we navigated hill after hill. We weaved the country roads surrounded by farms and open fields as far as the eye can see…taking in the sights and “smells” only an Amish farm community can provide…it was like being back in Ohio…you get quickly accustomed to the manure…not to mention having to dodge it out on the open road, an obstacle that made me glad I had worn old shoes (glad for old shoes now…regret later, for the next post). A lady and myself had been around each other the majority of the run and around mile 10 had gotten to trading war stories of races past while the course made a right turn on to a gravel road between two corn fields…to the longest hill I had ever encountered in running. The very distance of which was distorted from the rising heat mirage of the road ahead causing us to both let out an expletive…in unison. This might have been the only moment I have encountered in a run which I wanted to sit down and wait to be picked up by the pace vehicle. Of course I did not and at the top Bird-in-Hand’s version of Everest was a group of Amish handing out…Mango Italian Ice! The second time almost in tears since crossing the finish of the Historic Half in Fredericksburg…it tasted like pure mango ecstasy and spurred us on once again as we hurdled towards the finish.

I came across the finish line with a familiar burst of excitement and a little Amish girl handed me a medal…quite the transition from tough soldier to little girl, but equally rewarding. I had taken 17 minutes off my previous time finishing in 2 hours 32 minutes…mostly to my surprise. I had finished truthfully just the way I wanted to…leaving nothing behind and pushing myself to the “breaking point”…and maybe a little further.