Hard to Write - But Write I Will

It's hard to write about my 50@50 Project events from a few days ago.  Yesterday I was just plain wiped out from Sunday's race.  Plus I jammed and twisted my right index finger during the ride, so typing is... interesting, especially since I use the 'Columbus Method' of typing (find the key and land on it).  But then I saw the news and that put a halt to the small amount of ambition/energy I had in me to post to this blog.

It's surreal.  My wife and I have now crossed 14 finish lines this year on our way to achieving the goal I set forth for my 50th year.  Over the years, we've completed four marathons, numerous half-marathons, countless 10k's, 8k's, and 5k's.  We've done large events, with 10's of thousands of runners.  And we've done small events where there were maybe 30-40 participants.  Each and every one of them requires a commitment from not only the runners but the race organizers, the volunteers, the sponsors, the medical support, the police and city to block streets and manage intersections, supporters in the form of family, friends, race lovers, etc.  A LOT of work goes into these events.

There are few more overwhelming feelings than crossing the finish line after running for 26.2 miles.  Your emotions are out of control.  Part of you wants to collapse.  Part of you wants to keep running.  You want to cry, you want to shout, you want to hug anyone who will be hugged.  You want to find loved ones who came out to support you.  For me personally, I've found it's a great way to meet your future in-laws for the very first time.  When I run long distances, I let my mind wander.  It's a way to let yourself escape from the grueling run, the pounding you're forcing your body to endure, while you fight the growing desire to sit down on the curb for just a few minutes.  It's time spent thinking. 

Thinking...
about all those finish lines I've crossed these last 6+ years...
about all the races I've done with my co-conspirator in this project...
about the first marathon I did, the 2007 Portland Marathon... 
about Anne and Mike running along with me as I introduced myself to them while we ran the last few blocks toward the finish line...
that at around mile 12 of that same race I stopped to kiss and hug my first grandchild, Judah Dale Meckel, who came out with my daughter and son-in-law to cheer me on - I have a great picture that I will always cherish of that moment of the race...
about how good it was to see my son and his new bride, hoping he was proud of me...
about seeing my sister's cheering me on - Susan looking so proud and Pat who, with tears flowing, gave me a quick hug...
about all my friends and co-workers who came out to cheer, running along side to encourage - and offer me beer ("No way, not now")...
about how best to hold my arms and composure when I crossed the finish line...

Thinking about a million other things.  

Escapism.

And now today I think about what it would have been like to have any of that interrupted, destroyed, ruined - taken from me - like it was for the runners in Boston.

I'm pissed.  I'm sad.  I hurt for them.  I can't help think 'What if...'

I will keep on with the 50@50 Project.  Camera Crew will, as well.  I'll keep writing about our exploits and posting silly videos.  And I hope this makes you smile, laugh, cringe, and smile some more.  I hope you are, in some way, inspired.  

I'll try not to be on 'high alert' before, during, and after events - especially the large ones - and will make every effort to fully enjoy the moment and the feeling of accomplishment.  If I'm afraid or paranoid or don't immerse myself in the achievement then I am allowing myself to be robbed of my time, my moments, my memories.

I'm not willing to let that happen.