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| Start of 12-hour run. If it looks like I am going slow ... I am. |
Oh. About that mid-life crisis. A lot of guys I know have turned 50 over the past few months and years. Here is a summary of some of their mid-life crisis checkpoints upon approaching or hitting the half-century mark:
--Purchase
a muscle-car or a sports car. You know. An old-school Corvette, Camaro,
Mustang. Maybe a small BMW or Mercedes. Something like that. This task takes
first place in my unscientific research on male, mid-life crises.
--Purchase
a motorcycle. A close second. Was an intriguing idea for me, until Heidi
rightfully squashed it.
--Purchase
a boat. A pretty close third.
--Make
other radical changes to their lives, usually having rather destructive effects
on their marriages or other family relationships. Fortunately, this comes in
last, but it does happen.
Well.
Not being a mainstream sort of guy, I have chosen none of these paths during
this rather torturous run-up to my 50th birthday. (Side note: The outpouring of support,
excitement and party planning that have surrounded this birthday has been
greatly appreciated and it has made this otherwise introspective milestone a
lot of fun, and I look forward to celebrating this big number with many of you
in the coming hours and days). Rather than the traditional, checking
account draining activities that usually accompany a man turning 50 or
otherwise pondering mortality around this age, I have chosen a different –
and literally very well-worn, as you will see shortly – path. This summer, I
have returned to participating in (note
that I did not say “running” for fear of annoying the purists out there)
ultra marathons. But rather than doing the lung-searing and extremely
challenging 50- or 100-mile trail races at altitude (like my friend Bob Sweeney did so well a few weeks ago out at Leadville),
or any of the other extreme type events like the Spartan Death Race or Tough
Mudder or stuff like that, my ultra experiences of late are limited to timed
ultras on fixed/closed loops. If it sounds a bit repetitious and mind-numbing,
well yes, it is.
Somehow,
some way, I have forged a niche on these endless loops and amazingly I have
become somewhat competitive (relatively
speaking) in these races. I like routine. I like repetition. I have a gift
for going really slow but not slowing down and never, ever stopping (except for short bathroom breaks). Hey.
Don’t worry. I’m not going to give you play-by-play of my run/walk/run/walk
endless laps. It’s like NASCAR -- only a lot slower, a lot older, and much less
noisy. But, for those keeping score at home, I will tell you that I ran three
ultras in three months this summer:
1-The Broadway Ultra Society Joe Kleinerman 12-hour run in Bayside, Queens, on June 7,
held on a loop that was just shy of 1 mile (0.9704 of a mile). My goal was to
cover at least 50 miles to celebrate 50 years. I was able to reach that goal in
about 10 hours and 30 minutes, and I staggered to a final mileage total of 51.43
miles, earning a small plaque that was given to all finishers completing at
least 45 miles.
2-The Broadway Ultra Society Pajama Romp 6-hour run in Astoria, Queens, on July 26,
held on a hilly loop that was 1.2762 miles. I covered just less than 26 laps,
33.1 miles, and got a nice trophy for placing in the top-10 overall. This race
ended at 11 p.m., so the biggest challenge was not so much slowing down as it
was staying awake out there.
3-The
Sweltering Summer Ultra 8-hour run in Pittsfield, Massachusetts, on August 9,
held on a dirt track measuring exactly .3553746428 of a mile. This event (note that I don’t call them “races”) was
my primary focus all along, having done the 6-hour version of this event in
2013, really enjoying it immensely, and lighting that long-dormant ultra spark
in me. This year, I was fortunate to cover 125
So.
Yeah. That’s a lot of laps and a lot of miles, a lot of tedium, and a fair
amount of fatigue and certainly some ugly toenails. Many runners embrace
entering a new age group so they can get a rejuvenated competitiveness by being
the young person in the group. That ship has long since sailed for me, a slow
guy in races of mainstream distances; I’m just not all that good anymore.
But
sometimes, slow and steady and never stopping has its benefits. Keep moving
forward. Stop only when necessary. Keep moving forward. Stop when necessary.
Keep moving forward. These are pretty good lessons to learn around your 50th
birthday.
