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Week 51: Cherishing Lifelong Friendships and Putting the Hay in the Barn

Philosophical Dad Stuff

I spent most of the past week in the Pensacola, Florida area with a bunch of my oldest friends in the world. For the most part, we all grew up together, and in some cases, have been friends since we were 4-years old. We are now 41, so deep roots.

One night at dinner, we were sitting at the table eating expertly-grilled beef tenderloin when one of the guys called our attention to how rare it was for old friends to still meet once a year just to spend time together.

He said, “Nobody else I know does this.”

As we nodded in agreement around the table, I hoped it dawned on everyone else how special it was.

We fished, we swam. We laughed, and played games, and did our fantasy football draft. We ate well, stayed up too late and got up too early.

We talked of our wins and losses over the last year. The ones we post on social media about and the ones you keep closer to vest.

We talked about our health, our kids, and our hopes, dreams and aspirations for them.

We ate fresh redfish, and saw alligators and gar and stingrays just under the dock we fished from.

I often talk about how fortunate I am, but this was another case when my experiences drove this home. I’ve grown up with wonderful men I have called friends for most of my life.

I am a reflection of them as much as anything else.

I’m proud of them, and proud to be among them. They are good men in a world that desperately needs good men.

And then it came time for that sad return trip home, we cleaned up the rental house, ate one final lunch together and went our separate ways once again.

I for one, went home a better version than the one that arrived.

Couch to Ultramarathon…and Beyond

Speaking of that sad return trip home, it got delayed by flight issues.

So when I finally got home, and got my stuff together, I had time only for about 4-hours sleep before needing to get up and head out to the East Fork 50k, my final dress rehearsal in advance of the big one next month.

Although utterly exhausted from a guy’s trip all week, this time was different lining up at the start chute of a 50k ultramarathon. (technically 55k but who’s counting?)

I wasn’t nervous at all. I was confident in my training and knew I was going to finish provided I didn’t get hurt.

It was a hot and humid day, but I stayed focused and kept eating and drinking and moving forward. I was efficient at aide stations and only managed a minor fall with no cuts or other injuries.

My time wasn’t particularly great (although 30 minutes faster than my previous best) but I ended up in 11^th place overall out of 81 finishers. I had no idea until my coach texted me later on using lots of exclamation points.

Truth be told, I’ve never been more excited about an 11^th place finish.

It’s a testament to the training I have done, the miles I’ve covered, and the hills I’ve suffered on.

And over the last month, everything has been out of whack. I spent two weeks on vacations, one in the mountains (which was great for training) and one at the beach with friends (which was crap for training).

Schedules have been compromised, timing and runs have been shuffled and adjusted.

Progress has not been linear.

And still…and still progress is manifest and evident.

And it’s something to revel in.

Then again, there are only 25 days left until the big one. Yogi Berra would say, “It’s getting late early.”

Immediately after I crossed the finish line, I limped into the finisher station searching for ice. Seeing the race director, she asked how I was and after answering that it was a very cool but very tough course, I asked her how I would finish a race twice that distance three weeks hence.

Her answer?

“You almost got top ten today, you’ll be fine.”

And with that, she walked off.

I guess it’s just that simple then.

If you want to do something, all you have to do, is do it.

“Once a person is determined to help themselves, there is nothing that can stop them.” -Nelson Mandela

Live triumphantly. See you next week.