Sybil, my mistress

Since shortly after I met her more than 25 years ago, I have been madly in love with my wife Heidi. That dedicated passion remains today, nearly 23 years into our marriage. But alas, I have an admission to make. Yes. That’s right. I have another woman in my life. Oh! This is TERRIBLE. No worries, though. Fortunately, for the health of my marriage, as well as to appease you judgmental folks out in the blogosphere, my mistress – a legitimate Revolutionary War heroine named Sybil – has been dead for more than 175 years. Phew. I feel a lot better now. So. Who is this Sybil anyway? Glad you asked! Sybil Ludington is someone you probably have never heard of – but should! You’ve heard of Paul Revere, right? Well, Sybil was the female Paul Revere, only better! OK. Here’s the story, off the top of my head, without Googling it (feel free to look it up, it’s good stuff). Back in April of 1777, the British were invading Danbury, CT. Sybil’s father, Col. Henry Ludington, needed to gather his militiamen to save and secure this critical area. Not wanting to leave his command post, the colonel dispatched his oldest child, 16-year-old Sybil to round up the men. Sybil mounted her horse Star and galloped off into the cold and damp night. She had to dodge evil bandits along the way, but she did her job, banging her stick and yelling to the men gathered around the Dutchess (now Putnam) County countryside to report at once to Col. Ludington’s house. Danbury was burning! It needed to be saved! Sybil and Star completed the task wonderfully. Danbury was saved. We won the war. The United States of America would survive and thrive. Sybil. A legit American hero you’ve never heard of. You’re welcome. (Each of my children had to listen to me read them the children’s book version of this story, so they know it well!)

OK. What the heck does this have to do with anything? Well. The Taconic Road Runners, a great group, has put on a 50km (31-mile) originally called the Sybil Ludington Historical Run. The course roughly retraces the path of Sybil’s midnight ride in April 1777. This was the 40^th year of Sybil (all locals and ultra folks now simply refer to the race as Sybil). For the first time, this year the race was a two-loop 25km ultra. Race director (and good friend) Bob Sweeney maintained the integrity of the original Sybil course – that is, it’s rural, it’s on roads that Sybil and Star galloped, and it’s hilly as holy heck. Bob is a multiple winner of Sybil and he drives in from Colorado each April to direct this race. How cool is that? Sybil was my first ultra, way back in 1995. I did it again in 1996, but haven’t since then, because, well, April’s pretty busy in these parts now, isn’t it? This year, I was somehow able to clear my schedule for Saturday, the day of the 40^th Sybil. The 25km option was appealing as a convenient shortcut, and that was the original plan. Ah, but the spirit of my old, dead lady lured me into two loops. If you do Sybil, you gotta go the distance! And so, I slogged through the hills (Bob said more than 2,000 feet of climbing in all, seemingly on each loop). In particular, Gipsy Trail Road seemed to never end. I won’t bore you with the details, but with a judicious mix of jogging and power walking, I finished comfortably. As I said, Sybil was my first ultra, so she’ll always have a special place in my heart. Doing Sybil launched me into several decades of rather questionable decisions with regard to ultras – an odd fixation on fixed-time races, 40 miles for my 40^th birthday, 50 miles for my 50^th birthday, etc. There’s only one first time, however, and Sybil was my first ultra. And given the unique back story, and the fact that it’s a simple 45-minute drive from my house, and Bob comes back for it every year, it’ll always be special. And it certainly was neat to go back once more and tackle the Sybil hills. It was great to see Bob as well (note bad selfie, with me squinting through post-run sweat-encrusted eyes). He remains a loyal follower and supporter of this program, and it’s pretty awesome that he comes back every year to organize Sybil. Who knows when I’ll get back there to do Sybil again? If I wait another 22 years, I may be joining Sybil in the ground (speaking of which … isn’t it odd that her first name was misspelled at her gravesite?). For this day, anyway, it was fun to reacquaint myself with my long-lost mistress. Sybil.