Here is the best costume from the race.
She wore it for 50 miles. Awesome. The picture really doesn’t do justice to the foot-long beak. Her headlamp was secured to the end of it. Asa asked her if she could stand on one leg at mile 35 and she managed to smile — and not spit at him.
The San Antonio crew did the town proud. It was impressive to watch them push hard and run well at Bandera. I’m very thankful to have these folks as friends. And I can’t tell you what a pleasure it was to see their faces when I offered them ice cream sandwiches at mile 45. Put ice cream sandwiches on your shopping list the next time you crew. It didn’t seem to matter that the ice cream was half melted. (Might want to put dry ice on your list.)
I think it’s almost impossible to understand how hard a runner is working during a race when you’re crewing. You see people come into the aid stations utterly spent; But you also see runners come in who look fine. They smile and joke with the volunteers. The upbeat runner’s demeanor affects your ability to judge the extent to which people are “digging deep.” It also makes it hard not to think, “Well, it can’t be quite as bad as X is making it look. Y is doing just fine.”
Or, maybe, it’s just that you only get a good sense of the physical challenge of running 50 or 100 miles at an aid station — and not the mental challenge. It’s easy to understand how hours and hours of running is hard on the body. It’s easy to be impressed that someone is actually running all the hours you’ve been waiting at an aid station. But you don’t get a full picture of how mentally taxing it can be. You don’t get a sense of the mental challenge of deciding to put one foot in front of the other again and again until you witness it for a few hours. Pacing Chris left me with that thought. He had an outstanding race. And it was fantastic too have to jog behind him to keep up with his power hiking 70 miles into the race — just like I have to do on training runs.
My friend M. thought she might not finish the race when I spoke to her last week. She ended up second female. She is my model of putting your head down and doing what needs to be done. Oh, and she’s also my model for being gracious at aid stations. She made sure to ask how the day was going for me each time she came through Equestrian. I assured her that sitting on my butt was going pretty well.
I wish you all could have seen what a fantastic race Steven Moore ran. It’s such a great pleasure to see someone run so well. I knew he was going to crush the course record when I saw him sit down at mile 45 and put on a pair of Injini knee socks. (Socks with toes.) If you can calmly and efficiently wiggle your toes into the right toe places after flying up and down the rocky Bandera hills for 45 miles…. Well, wow. 19 hours and a bit of change. WOW.
And, as requested, here is the boy in costume last night. He decided he would be a brush collection truck back in September. He stood his ground when Eliot and I suggested other ideas. And so, at 4 in the afternoon — with 3 hours of sleep in the last 24 hours — Eliot and I went to work. Sure, we could have started brainstorming back in September, but that would have ruined the whole A-Team/Project Runway feel of the event. “You have 90 minutes to make a Halloween costume. Your materials: cardboard, athletic tape, and salad tongs. Go!” (You should listen to the A-Team theme if you want the real feel of our evening.) Needless to say, Asa was pleased with our efforts and he hauled in the candy with his buddy B.