Grab a beer for what a year it was in 2008. We saw, lived and drank so much of trail, how do we prepare for another year for the Indy-scent kennel? Be strong, but wise and have fun and prepare for an even better 2009, that’s how you’ll do it, right!
As those smartly dressed and over paid, botoxed newscasters on TV seem to enjoy reminding us that we’re growing older and so much has happened in the past year and this is the converse of that TV filth. Stop watching TV and start training to hash by scouting good trails, drinking lots of beer, and growing a third level of thick skin as to remain strong on-on trail. For this is the annual wrap of Indy-Scent events.
We hashed more than 66 trails this past year. And just like those sexual experiences that we cherish on lonely nights let us recall that some were easy while some were easy or sleazy and only a few where phuken hard. Some trails were fashion focused and forced us to dress up or dress down. And there were many times when some of us chose to avoid the conflict entirely and just undressed entirely.
Such a long year it was and we made the best of it by running, walking, and in some cases chatted in the knitting circle. We celebrated several milestones too: Money$hots 100th hash, our largest Prom ever, the 11th Analversary-hosted by Donkey Punch, our 300 Weekend-hosted by Camotow & Jacoochie, and our first Piratesta hash where more than 20 non-returner virgins walked the plank, never to return, nor to be spoken of or even be found days later bloated and floating downstream in Little Eagle Creek. We are not here today to celebrate the attempted Indyhhh subversive hash with Jimmy Buffet because it was so much fun, really that much fun that my memory was erased by Mismanagement and so I won’t talk about it.
Seems like it was a fun year, doesn’t it? Let me remind you of a few details that scared many hashers. There was the Phantasm hash that included too many poorly marked miles of trail though Crown Hill Cemetery along with an abrupt tour of the mausoleum including an elevator ride in the casket basket. There was also the March hash of Sir Camotow and Jacoochi with their Friggin Freegan hash that reminded us that summer is near and wet feet is nothing to fear, isn’t that right? Other scary events included the adventure with the Children of the Corn where we learned that if one is drunk enough that everything is ok, even if that includes quick sand and falling down in heavy stream flow. And if that wasn’t enough fear to remind you that we are hashers, then there was that cute little cakewalk called “Stand by Me” where not even field of nettles standing 7 feet tall could slow us from our journey for beer. If that wasn’t enough of a challenge we continued on that day making through the deep yet cool blue raging waters of the Big Blue River in Flat Rock. We’re strong, we’re tough, we’re hashers and most importantly we’re thirsty so not even a 3 story tall railroad bridge the length of a football field can stop us.
Don’t be deceived as the Indyscent kennel is tough, we have no boundaries. If we can hash as far south as Flat Rock then let’s go north and go north we did. Once heard some old coot on TV say, “Go north young man!” and that’s what we did. In August the kennel gathered in Kokomo, the City of Thirst and we hashed there, and it was good, and we fucked, we fucked like Vikings…….yeah it was tough, especially because someone thought it would be fun to Flambong Absinthe and that’s another story that will be spoken about, not written about in order to protect the names of the (not so) innocent.
Such fun, or was it? I cannot go on about our wonderful year without saying good by to so many great things and great people who hashed this past year. We know that when we hit trail at the beginning of the year, some won’t come back, they just can’t and that is only the blame of God and His drunkenness in letting us stray.
Let us remember our dear friend Flambogo1 who met her fate unexpectedly taking leaks on a trail and on hashers. Perhaps had she not been a vessel of toxic absinthe, she would still be with us instead of becoming a permanent fixture in our GM’s yard. And we also must bow our heads at the loss of Newton’s (Gavy) intact tibia. Had I been a faster and stronger hasher maybe I could have caught him in my arms as he plunged helplessly from the parking garage at the Torque Your Turkey Hash. For those who were present we know it was horrible, so much swelling and disfiguration as well as just out right scary. So next time Newton you should wear something that covers your organs and piano when you fall down. And lastly one of our greatest losses was…..light a candle now, say a prayer, burn a cross or whatever; we entered the trail among friends and it seemed safe and friendly, but before long we lost our dignity. It was left at so many boob checks and not enough pecker check, and damn you who missed the sangria check at the AIDS memorial! Still we survived and survived with some really great stories, so great that we’ll never tell our grandchildren.
And while we wipe tears of sorrow from our legs, let us lift up our beers as we celebrate our new hashers who came into our kennel in 2008. Gutterballs and Closet Fag are so much GD fun, if only their trails had as much beer as their as their presence in circle has love and kisses. Welcome aboard to very own Shoe Me Your Tits and Fishlips who act like Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton by singing Floridian hash songs in circle before trail. Keep your eyes on these 2, they’re committed and fun and so much fun that the hosted our Holiday Hash. (xx both ya). Twenty Pound Pussy—welcome aboard and I hope you’re as thrilled to be with us as we are with you, even if your trails are “Shitty”. Venereal Day aka VD she’s a tough girl and you spend a little time with you and you’ll agree with that assessment: look out!. Breezy Balls, who was made to come by VD and that should offer enough of a welcoming. OK and so there were many great hashers who joined our kennel. I’ve go a bit of a time problem as it’s New Years Eve and I need to get my skinny ass ready for a party so please accept my apology if you were not missed, and if you want to be remembered in hashtrash than get in my face and make your self memorable.
And to our dearly beloved returners to whom we would not have a hash without their astitute leadership, their love of bring fun to other people at the sacrifice of consuming beer, let me take off my hat and pants and offer a full salute to you.
Mess, aka The Messiah
Kotex, aka just Jesus
ProBoner, aka Just Stacy, aka Just Jewbacca cool sister who is named “Stacy”
Necro Polo, those Lafayette hashers are really the best!
Happy New Years to each of you and thank you for an amazing year. I’ve had so much fun and so many struggles and struggling for fun is what makes life worth living, isn’t it? Sure it’s just about some of us who get together for beers and trail, but for others it is something we look forward to. Some of us thrive on social interaction like this.
See you next year and look forward to future hashes {the Helen Reddy Hash, bring your divorced and bitter mother, as I will), (the Carly Simon Hash, were instead of beer checks we get silicon lip injection) and many other wonderful and “easy” trails
Xxx
Jewbacca
{hate my blog: http://jerryoma.blogspot.com/}
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
2008 highlights
It’s New Years Eve and we can finally say good by to a year that seemed to be filled with many surprises and fun events. It was a year of reunions and a few sad farewells. It was also a year with many new friends and many new and fun trails. This is just a recap of some of those highlights.
New Friends:
-Randy and Lynn from the running club are smart, witty, wise, and so much fun I want to move in with them, and likely could and they’d never know it, their house is very large.
-Anna, a.k.a., 20# is in my running club and so much fun. We spent a lot of time together on trail, can’t wait to see where it leads in 2009.
-Walt and Margie, the family members of a long time hero from my childhood. I was 14 when Mary was murdered by a stranger and her death was a turning point in my early life and it is why I focus so much of my career in easing the pain of those who have experienced loss. Reuniting with them answered so many questions and helped heal a broken heart.
-Brenda Rinehart from Eli Lilly. After 10 years of trying to get a job there, it finally happened and she’s my coach and friend. I don’t think it really matters what type of job someone has, it’s the people one works with that make it satisfying and Brenda is proof of that!
-The other good friends from Eli Lilly, Stephanie, Emily, Charla, Jerome, Megan, Sabine. Et. Al.
-Chad Abbott is our new NESCO director, a job that I wouldn't want, but more than willing to help as much as possible.
Farewells
-Maryann Anthony reared her grandson Alexzander and did a great job showing him how to be a leader in this class and after school program. He use to walk past my house every day and sometimes picked some of the wild flowers that I planted along the sidewalk to give to her. One day while walking home he was caught in middle of a cross fire and was shot dead on the sidewalk. It hurt and so I did what was necessary to soften her pain. In August Maryann died, likely of a broken heart. At least she’s with Alexzander now.
-Aunt Kathryn Williams never stopped working and at the age of 79, while working in the kitchen dropped dead and went home to see Uncle Lee and Grandma. She was such a great cook and not long will I miss those uncomfortable kisses on the mouth from her, I’ll also miss her biscuits.
Reunions
-Thanksgiving weekend with Mike Mennonno was certainly a reason for me to be thankful this year. It has been 4 years since I last saw him and it was fun, refreshing and memorable. I can’t wait to see him again in another 4 years.
-All those great people from the HUFF. I’ll see them again next year if not before!
Events
-Camping in Flat Rock for 300 weekend in July with 20 friends. The trail was 8 miles long and included more than a mile of stinging nettles taller than me, river crossings, deep mud, mosquitoes, overpowering heat, and of course too much beer.
-Feast of Lanterns is the neighborhood festival and this year was the best yet. All that work we do all year is so worth it.
-Light the Night for Life is an event I organize to memorialize those who were murdered the previous year. It was well attended, got a great deal of media attention, and we had volunteers from an after school program of kids who lost a classmate from homicide. It was so meaningful.
-Singing Christmas Carols at the cancer center was what I needed to be put in the mood for the holidays, even if I can’t sing very well.
-Enrolling my dog Rocco into a blood donor program at the emergency vet clinic. It really made me so full of worry and anxiety that I was nearly physical ill the first time, but he came out ok and I learned his blood type if A negative.
-Finishing the remodeling of the upstairs bathroom, or almost finishing it. I just have to fix that little leak now for 2009.
-The Summer Solstice run, also known as Mid Hummer’s Wet Dream. I took the running club through some treacherous trails, dodging trains along with a couple hobo villages.
Successes
-Finishing in first place for the Arsenal Tech 5K, even if I was just a walker, I wore jeans and mud boots and still came in first.
-Finishing the Monumental half-Marathon in pretty good time and injury free, what more could one ask for?
There is a lot more to add here, but I’ll have to pass on that for this year and hopefully next year will have more information to share. Thanks for all your support and friendship!
New Friends:
-Randy and Lynn from the running club are smart, witty, wise, and so much fun I want to move in with them, and likely could and they’d never know it, their house is very large.
-Anna, a.k.a., 20# is in my running club and so much fun. We spent a lot of time together on trail, can’t wait to see where it leads in 2009.
-Walt and Margie, the family members of a long time hero from my childhood. I was 14 when Mary was murdered by a stranger and her death was a turning point in my early life and it is why I focus so much of my career in easing the pain of those who have experienced loss. Reuniting with them answered so many questions and helped heal a broken heart.
-Brenda Rinehart from Eli Lilly. After 10 years of trying to get a job there, it finally happened and she’s my coach and friend. I don’t think it really matters what type of job someone has, it’s the people one works with that make it satisfying and Brenda is proof of that!
-The other good friends from Eli Lilly, Stephanie, Emily, Charla, Jerome, Megan, Sabine. Et. Al.
-Chad Abbott is our new NESCO director, a job that I wouldn't want, but more than willing to help as much as possible.
Farewells
-Maryann Anthony reared her grandson Alexzander and did a great job showing him how to be a leader in this class and after school program. He use to walk past my house every day and sometimes picked some of the wild flowers that I planted along the sidewalk to give to her. One day while walking home he was caught in middle of a cross fire and was shot dead on the sidewalk. It hurt and so I did what was necessary to soften her pain. In August Maryann died, likely of a broken heart. At least she’s with Alexzander now.
-Aunt Kathryn Williams never stopped working and at the age of 79, while working in the kitchen dropped dead and went home to see Uncle Lee and Grandma. She was such a great cook and not long will I miss those uncomfortable kisses on the mouth from her, I’ll also miss her biscuits.
Reunions
-Thanksgiving weekend with Mike Mennonno was certainly a reason for me to be thankful this year. It has been 4 years since I last saw him and it was fun, refreshing and memorable. I can’t wait to see him again in another 4 years.
-All those great people from the HUFF. I’ll see them again next year if not before!
Events
-Camping in Flat Rock for 300 weekend in July with 20 friends. The trail was 8 miles long and included more than a mile of stinging nettles taller than me, river crossings, deep mud, mosquitoes, overpowering heat, and of course too much beer.
-Feast of Lanterns is the neighborhood festival and this year was the best yet. All that work we do all year is so worth it.
-Light the Night for Life is an event I organize to memorialize those who were murdered the previous year. It was well attended, got a great deal of media attention, and we had volunteers from an after school program of kids who lost a classmate from homicide. It was so meaningful.
-Singing Christmas Carols at the cancer center was what I needed to be put in the mood for the holidays, even if I can’t sing very well.
-Enrolling my dog Rocco into a blood donor program at the emergency vet clinic. It really made me so full of worry and anxiety that I was nearly physical ill the first time, but he came out ok and I learned his blood type if A negative.
-Finishing the remodeling of the upstairs bathroom, or almost finishing it. I just have to fix that little leak now for 2009.
-The Summer Solstice run, also known as Mid Hummer’s Wet Dream. I took the running club through some treacherous trails, dodging trains along with a couple hobo villages.
Successes
-Finishing in first place for the Arsenal Tech 5K, even if I was just a walker, I wore jeans and mud boots and still came in first.
-Finishing the Monumental half-Marathon in pretty good time and injury free, what more could one ask for?
There is a lot more to add here, but I’ll have to pass on that for this year and hopefully next year will have more information to share. Thanks for all your support and friendship!
The HUFF
posted a few days late, sorry about that, but please consider the recovery time for this.
cember 27, 2008
Today is my birthday. I’ve finally reached the age of 44, a place where I really couldn’t ever imagine ever reaching. There are many ways to celebrate this age, or for that goes, any age. I chose to celebrate this year by revisiting my 34th birthday: it was the best birthday ever. It with 10 years ago that I chose to run a 50K ultra marathon. The Huntington Ultra Frigid Fifty, also known as the HUFF offers the largest field of ultra runners for a 50K combination trail and road run. It felt right that after a disappointing Thanksgiving holiday, I was moved me to take on this challenge, and it was probably just what I needed.
I signed up then sent harassing emails to the race director, Mitch Harper. He is an long time friend of mine, someone who I have as much respect for as favor to be around. He is fun, witty, intelligent, and we both share a background of medic-legal work: we have some really gory stories that we share…and that’s ok.
December 26, the day before the HUFF I’m at home wondering many things: what time should I leave for the 100 mile drive? What do I take with me? And as gay as it sounds, what do I wear? None of these questions mattered, all that mattered was getting there and since Indiana was being engulfed in a thick fog, I had to get on the road at once. The drive to Huntington was one of the most stressful I’d made. Heavy traffic accompanied by even heavier fog, it was enough to nearly give me an aneurism. I made it to the Motel 6, got checked into my room in record time and signed on to their wireless. I was able to find out where the pre-race spaghetti dinner was held, hallelujah. Unfortunately the fog had grown thicker and I ended up getting lost in rural northern Indiana. Had it not been for the stoutly and quite studly Indiana State Policeman who provided me directions, I would likely not have made it.
St. Peter’s Lutheran Church in Huntington hosted the event and they were very warm and friendly and they had good prepared pasta for I ate 3 portions. There were less than a dozen other ultra runners in attendance, a few of which remembered me from previous races. It made me feel welcome to be back as a part of their lives as well as for them to be back into my life. Together we thrive from each other, we provide encouragement, supportive words and when it’s necessary, encouraging hugs. Isn’t that what everyone in life needs?
All of these pre-race dinners are the same: old friends getting together, meeting new friends, and of course showing off the latest and last shirt from our long distance race. One guy there was different and his name was Jim, he is from Michigan. He wore a nicely pressed blue pin-point dress shirt. This was why I was drawn to him: “Are you running tomorrow? Have you ever run an ultra before? I didn’t think so.” I said.
Jim sat across the table from me during dinner and he was one of those rare people I’ve met in life that just have that kind of personality that makes every word memorable. We talked about the coming trail—sometimes it’s bad, other times worse. The snow, the mud, the cold, it is after all called the frigid fifty so what would you expect?
After dinner I returned to my feelings of panic: how would I find the hotel? Can I find the start-finish area? Will the fog go away? No worry, as I was among friends who repeated several times the directions and for clarity asked me to repeat them back.
It was about 4:15 am when I finally was able to fall asleep; even then it was just for an hour. No, it wasn’t that I had met someone charming or even slutty, it was a combination of things that kept me awake. You see I normally share my bed with my dog and that night I was alone. I sleep on 400 count sheets and now I was sleeping on something that resembled brushed burlap. At home my pillows are posture-pedic and now my head rests on an elephant sized kotex. I was miserable and worried nearly sick and secretly hoped that the hotel would erupt into flames consuming me before the 8am race start; thereby saving me from having to run 34 miles on my 44th birthday. No luck as I awoke got dressed and hit the road and found the start.
When I go to these races, and it’s been more than 3 years since my last ultra, I am always filled with such a warm and welcoming feelings. So many friends, former competitors, and heroes; it’s like a family reunion but no one smokes cigarettes and you don’t find hair in the food.
At 8am the cannon blasted and echoed loudly throughout the reservoir and we were on trail. It was less than a mile of road before we ran off on our first leg of trail. Next it was mostly mud and ice. It was then that we knew it was going to be a tough trail because with temperatures 60’s, there was going to be significant melting and even greater levels of mud.
Since it was my birthday I was receiving many calls throughout the day, it was refreshing and encouraging to hear the voices of so many loved ones wishing me good thoughts while I was spent more than 8 hours in constant motion, running and walking through ankle deep mud or knee deep water. Really it meant the most to me because I really didn’t think I was going to finish this day.
In the week preceding the Huff I had arraigned a cardiac work up and it was cancelled due to an unexpected ice storm. I also met with an attorney to complete my will and wrap up all my life insurance policies. Maybe that was why I was so exhausted with anxiety and didn’t sleep the night before. I really felt it was my time to move on and thankfully that was not to be, not this time.
The HUFF is 3 loops around the reservoir in Huntington and that’s about 11 miles per loop. The first loop is always the fun loop, there are so many people running with you and you’re always engaged in good, witty and warm conversations. The second loop is much different because you’re mostly alone since many of the runners choose to do just one loop. So for that second loop if I wasn’t running alone, I was catching up with people who ran out too fast from the start and were now injured and hobbling along, waiting for a place, an aid station where they could drop out. It’s a very sad loop and I was reminded of that within a few miles of entering that loop.
After the first aid station where most drop out, I found myself alone and a little desperate. It was still my birthday and the phone calls had tapered off, I was cold, my feet were wet and covered in mud, I was hungry but couldn’t eat without vomiting, and worst of all I was alone in the woods. Alone in the woods on my birthday, I felt terrible, more than terrible actually. Suddenly I was awoken from my pity party by the sounds of foot steps just behind me. It was a younger guy named Ed who was lapping me. I felt demoralized and wanted to drop out and forget everything about this day.
When Ed caught up to me he stopped and walked with me. He was clearly more trained than me and he was in a better mood and willing to share that positive energy that I really needed it at that time. I told him that I was hoping to be pulled from the race since I was so slow; he assured me I was doing great. I told him I felt sick, he told me that he also felt a little ill and likely everyone else on the course shared that same physical ailment at least for the short time. I tried to share with him my victim’s story and all he heard was my survivor’s story.
This is what I love so much about running, it such a great metaphor for life. All of us are on a journey and we try hard to make it good. Sometimes we get stuck up in mud, water, snow, or our own victim’s stories. Then when we least expect it, someone walks into our lives offering words of encouragement. They make our problems seem less significant, but still important. They remind us that we all have baggage and those who set their baggage to the side are less likely to trip over it. And so, set it to the side and move on. If Ed is reading this, thank you man. You were one of the best birthday presents I could have asked for.
After a couple minutes Ed was back on trail at full speed and I felt better and picked up my pace, before long I was back at the start-finish area about to begin my third loop. When I arrived there I was surrounded my photographers. “Can I keep going?” I asked. They just pointed me to the next table and said, “We’re not race officials, but you look great!” At the next table I saw my old and dear friend Judy and she was engaged in a deep conversation with someone else. Should I interrupt or should I just keep going? Since I was out of breath, instead of talking to Judy I just wandered off into the cold, dark woods all alone.
Oh boy, it’s my last loop, and I thought it was going to be my last moments and again I was alone. What a wonderful surprise I found at mile 22, it was Sue, Lynn and Lynn’s daughter Sarah. We had never met before but I could easily measure the level of enthusiasm of these runners who were from Chicago. After about a mile I shared with them that it was my 56th ultra marathon and they smiled. I also told them that it was also my 44th birthday. They cheered and hugged and they sang the “Happy Birthday” song to me. I felt odd, uncomfortable, but glad that 3 strangers felt the need that I should be reminded that it was a great day. We continued on trail, laughing about the overwhelming amount of mud and how lucky we are to be running today and running without snow. It was another survivor story that I needed to hear.
When we got to the mile length of the concrete dam, they left me. The 30 mph winds slowed me from a jog to a walk and all I saw of them were the bright colors of their jackets that faded into the woods and here I was again, celebrating my birthday alone.
As the sky began to turn dark I was consumed with a feeling of fear. I didn’t want to be alone, alone in the deep woods, alone in wet and muddy feet. This was the third loop and it’s always been known as the party loop. The first loop is the friendly loop; it’s where I meet new friends. The second loop is the tough loop; it’s where the trail gets boring. Then there is the third loop and that’s where I have always have fun. And in keeping with tradition I was forcing myself to have fun.
I set myself into the zone, this is where I pretend I’m some sort of monster and I’m stalking my prey. So I see someone in the distance and I slowly creep up on them before passing them. Of course I pass along words of encouragement as Ed did for me just 1 loop and 2 hour ago. Then I keep going. It was to the point that I was almost in a panic, I just needed to finish. When I saw no one in the distance I feared that the storm was about to poach me and I ran faster.
The finish line is in the center of the campground. When we started it was full of cars, full of cheering family members, and lots of children at this point. This time it was different, there was no one around it was empty but I continued to run. My goal was 8 hours and 30 minutes and my finish time was 8 hours, 30 minutes and 55 seconds and I was thrilled to be done. When I finished there was my dear friend Lois. Lois and I met 10 years ago, this very date and on this very trail. It was her 44th birthday then, now it’s her 50th birthday and it’s now my 44th birthday. I sat down to remove the computer chip that measures my time.
This was the first time I’d sat down in almost 9 hours and I was in so much pain, tremendous pain from the tip of my toes all the way up to all three bones of my hip, it was overpowering. Lois immediately came up to me telling me that I was her hero. I responded telling her that she is my hero, that it was thoughts of her that kept me going. You know, she’s older than me but she keeps trying and she gets things done, she accomplishes her goals, and isn’t that was describes a hero?.
This is where it gets weird. I began to cry but not just weep, but an open cry. I told the small group of people around me that I didn’t think I would finish and I confided that I thought this race would be the end of me. It’s good be honest, especially to be honest with friends and with strangers. They replied with a long and warm hung that seemed to last so long that I can still feel it now, so many hours later. I also got a medal and that was especially good. Then the helped me stand up and lead me to the recovery tent were I was rewarded with a variety of cups of homemade soup, applause, photographs and applause.
It was great! It was the best birthday I have had in so many years. While I was full of doubt, I was pushed, challenged, encouraged, toughened, refined and so many other words that can only describe with wonderful feelings. I could have chosen to stay at home on my birthday working on the old house that I’ve been working to restore. Or I could go out and live life, to be with people who I love, old friends and new who love me. I know I made the right choice.
As the post-race party began to wound down, I helped take down signs, clean up, and do what needed to be done before being dismissed. I gathered my belongings and began to walk into the back of the campground where my truck was parked. It was the only remaining vehicle there. As I walked back there I couldn’t help but notice the beauty of winter forest. So many naked trees, stone cold camp sites, it was empty, cold, and very windy. The reservoir was mostly drained, just massive chunks of ice and tree stumps stood out. I really felt alone and isolated here and I was overpowered by once more, I’m alone and that makes me sad.
Please accept my apology but I really need to share this with you. As I got to my truck I was struck with so much sadness it was weakening. I may have cried at the finish line but now I was bawling. I was crying like a parent who just heard the worst news, like patient who just received their “deathdate.” I was so weakened by this but I kept going, after all it was cold and it was just starting to rain. I hate it when I cry on my birthday; it’s been so long since it’s happened.
I asked myself out loud, “Why am I so sad? I had just finished when I didn’t think I could, why do I feel such pain, such overwhelming sadness? Before I could even finish my question the answer came to me. I’m sad and I’m crying because I just spent the best day of the year with some of the best friends I have. Do I have to wait another year to see them? That’s why I’m sad, that’s why I’m crying and that’s why you’ll see me at more races.
In order to be happy and at peace with myself I have to surround myself with positive-like minded people and that’s why I’m going to continue to train for the next race. It’s also why I’m going to be a positive role model to the many others who I meet in life, those who are stuck in mud and thinking about giving up. We have to stick together if we want to finish.
Thank you for allowing me to open my own personal HUFF 2008 odyssey, this type of emotional strip-tease is not typical for me. Am happy to share my experience with others, perhaps you have had a similar time, perhaps not.
--jerryshepherd1227@yahoo.com
“Tell me about the God you don’t believe in and I’ll likely agree with you!”
cember 27, 2008
Today is my birthday. I’ve finally reached the age of 44, a place where I really couldn’t ever imagine ever reaching. There are many ways to celebrate this age, or for that goes, any age. I chose to celebrate this year by revisiting my 34th birthday: it was the best birthday ever. It with 10 years ago that I chose to run a 50K ultra marathon. The Huntington Ultra Frigid Fifty, also known as the HUFF offers the largest field of ultra runners for a 50K combination trail and road run. It felt right that after a disappointing Thanksgiving holiday, I was moved me to take on this challenge, and it was probably just what I needed.
I signed up then sent harassing emails to the race director, Mitch Harper. He is an long time friend of mine, someone who I have as much respect for as favor to be around. He is fun, witty, intelligent, and we both share a background of medic-legal work: we have some really gory stories that we share…and that’s ok.
December 26, the day before the HUFF I’m at home wondering many things: what time should I leave for the 100 mile drive? What do I take with me? And as gay as it sounds, what do I wear? None of these questions mattered, all that mattered was getting there and since Indiana was being engulfed in a thick fog, I had to get on the road at once. The drive to Huntington was one of the most stressful I’d made. Heavy traffic accompanied by even heavier fog, it was enough to nearly give me an aneurism. I made it to the Motel 6, got checked into my room in record time and signed on to their wireless. I was able to find out where the pre-race spaghetti dinner was held, hallelujah. Unfortunately the fog had grown thicker and I ended up getting lost in rural northern Indiana. Had it not been for the stoutly and quite studly Indiana State Policeman who provided me directions, I would likely not have made it.
St. Peter’s Lutheran Church in Huntington hosted the event and they were very warm and friendly and they had good prepared pasta for I ate 3 portions. There were less than a dozen other ultra runners in attendance, a few of which remembered me from previous races. It made me feel welcome to be back as a part of their lives as well as for them to be back into my life. Together we thrive from each other, we provide encouragement, supportive words and when it’s necessary, encouraging hugs. Isn’t that what everyone in life needs?
All of these pre-race dinners are the same: old friends getting together, meeting new friends, and of course showing off the latest and last shirt from our long distance race. One guy there was different and his name was Jim, he is from Michigan. He wore a nicely pressed blue pin-point dress shirt. This was why I was drawn to him: “Are you running tomorrow? Have you ever run an ultra before? I didn’t think so.” I said.
Jim sat across the table from me during dinner and he was one of those rare people I’ve met in life that just have that kind of personality that makes every word memorable. We talked about the coming trail—sometimes it’s bad, other times worse. The snow, the mud, the cold, it is after all called the frigid fifty so what would you expect?
After dinner I returned to my feelings of panic: how would I find the hotel? Can I find the start-finish area? Will the fog go away? No worry, as I was among friends who repeated several times the directions and for clarity asked me to repeat them back.
It was about 4:15 am when I finally was able to fall asleep; even then it was just for an hour. No, it wasn’t that I had met someone charming or even slutty, it was a combination of things that kept me awake. You see I normally share my bed with my dog and that night I was alone. I sleep on 400 count sheets and now I was sleeping on something that resembled brushed burlap. At home my pillows are posture-pedic and now my head rests on an elephant sized kotex. I was miserable and worried nearly sick and secretly hoped that the hotel would erupt into flames consuming me before the 8am race start; thereby saving me from having to run 34 miles on my 44th birthday. No luck as I awoke got dressed and hit the road and found the start.
When I go to these races, and it’s been more than 3 years since my last ultra, I am always filled with such a warm and welcoming feelings. So many friends, former competitors, and heroes; it’s like a family reunion but no one smokes cigarettes and you don’t find hair in the food.
At 8am the cannon blasted and echoed loudly throughout the reservoir and we were on trail. It was less than a mile of road before we ran off on our first leg of trail. Next it was mostly mud and ice. It was then that we knew it was going to be a tough trail because with temperatures 60’s, there was going to be significant melting and even greater levels of mud.
Since it was my birthday I was receiving many calls throughout the day, it was refreshing and encouraging to hear the voices of so many loved ones wishing me good thoughts while I was spent more than 8 hours in constant motion, running and walking through ankle deep mud or knee deep water. Really it meant the most to me because I really didn’t think I was going to finish this day.
In the week preceding the Huff I had arraigned a cardiac work up and it was cancelled due to an unexpected ice storm. I also met with an attorney to complete my will and wrap up all my life insurance policies. Maybe that was why I was so exhausted with anxiety and didn’t sleep the night before. I really felt it was my time to move on and thankfully that was not to be, not this time.
The HUFF is 3 loops around the reservoir in Huntington and that’s about 11 miles per loop. The first loop is always the fun loop, there are so many people running with you and you’re always engaged in good, witty and warm conversations. The second loop is much different because you’re mostly alone since many of the runners choose to do just one loop. So for that second loop if I wasn’t running alone, I was catching up with people who ran out too fast from the start and were now injured and hobbling along, waiting for a place, an aid station where they could drop out. It’s a very sad loop and I was reminded of that within a few miles of entering that loop.
After the first aid station where most drop out, I found myself alone and a little desperate. It was still my birthday and the phone calls had tapered off, I was cold, my feet were wet and covered in mud, I was hungry but couldn’t eat without vomiting, and worst of all I was alone in the woods. Alone in the woods on my birthday, I felt terrible, more than terrible actually. Suddenly I was awoken from my pity party by the sounds of foot steps just behind me. It was a younger guy named Ed who was lapping me. I felt demoralized and wanted to drop out and forget everything about this day.
When Ed caught up to me he stopped and walked with me. He was clearly more trained than me and he was in a better mood and willing to share that positive energy that I really needed it at that time. I told him that I was hoping to be pulled from the race since I was so slow; he assured me I was doing great. I told him I felt sick, he told me that he also felt a little ill and likely everyone else on the course shared that same physical ailment at least for the short time. I tried to share with him my victim’s story and all he heard was my survivor’s story.
This is what I love so much about running, it such a great metaphor for life. All of us are on a journey and we try hard to make it good. Sometimes we get stuck up in mud, water, snow, or our own victim’s stories. Then when we least expect it, someone walks into our lives offering words of encouragement. They make our problems seem less significant, but still important. They remind us that we all have baggage and those who set their baggage to the side are less likely to trip over it. And so, set it to the side and move on. If Ed is reading this, thank you man. You were one of the best birthday presents I could have asked for.
After a couple minutes Ed was back on trail at full speed and I felt better and picked up my pace, before long I was back at the start-finish area about to begin my third loop. When I arrived there I was surrounded my photographers. “Can I keep going?” I asked. They just pointed me to the next table and said, “We’re not race officials, but you look great!” At the next table I saw my old and dear friend Judy and she was engaged in a deep conversation with someone else. Should I interrupt or should I just keep going? Since I was out of breath, instead of talking to Judy I just wandered off into the cold, dark woods all alone.
Oh boy, it’s my last loop, and I thought it was going to be my last moments and again I was alone. What a wonderful surprise I found at mile 22, it was Sue, Lynn and Lynn’s daughter Sarah. We had never met before but I could easily measure the level of enthusiasm of these runners who were from Chicago. After about a mile I shared with them that it was my 56th ultra marathon and they smiled. I also told them that it was also my 44th birthday. They cheered and hugged and they sang the “Happy Birthday” song to me. I felt odd, uncomfortable, but glad that 3 strangers felt the need that I should be reminded that it was a great day. We continued on trail, laughing about the overwhelming amount of mud and how lucky we are to be running today and running without snow. It was another survivor story that I needed to hear.
When we got to the mile length of the concrete dam, they left me. The 30 mph winds slowed me from a jog to a walk and all I saw of them were the bright colors of their jackets that faded into the woods and here I was again, celebrating my birthday alone.
As the sky began to turn dark I was consumed with a feeling of fear. I didn’t want to be alone, alone in the deep woods, alone in wet and muddy feet. This was the third loop and it’s always been known as the party loop. The first loop is the friendly loop; it’s where I meet new friends. The second loop is the tough loop; it’s where the trail gets boring. Then there is the third loop and that’s where I have always have fun. And in keeping with tradition I was forcing myself to have fun.
I set myself into the zone, this is where I pretend I’m some sort of monster and I’m stalking my prey. So I see someone in the distance and I slowly creep up on them before passing them. Of course I pass along words of encouragement as Ed did for me just 1 loop and 2 hour ago. Then I keep going. It was to the point that I was almost in a panic, I just needed to finish. When I saw no one in the distance I feared that the storm was about to poach me and I ran faster.
The finish line is in the center of the campground. When we started it was full of cars, full of cheering family members, and lots of children at this point. This time it was different, there was no one around it was empty but I continued to run. My goal was 8 hours and 30 minutes and my finish time was 8 hours, 30 minutes and 55 seconds and I was thrilled to be done. When I finished there was my dear friend Lois. Lois and I met 10 years ago, this very date and on this very trail. It was her 44th birthday then, now it’s her 50th birthday and it’s now my 44th birthday. I sat down to remove the computer chip that measures my time.
This was the first time I’d sat down in almost 9 hours and I was in so much pain, tremendous pain from the tip of my toes all the way up to all three bones of my hip, it was overpowering. Lois immediately came up to me telling me that I was her hero. I responded telling her that she is my hero, that it was thoughts of her that kept me going. You know, she’s older than me but she keeps trying and she gets things done, she accomplishes her goals, and isn’t that was describes a hero?.
This is where it gets weird. I began to cry but not just weep, but an open cry. I told the small group of people around me that I didn’t think I would finish and I confided that I thought this race would be the end of me. It’s good be honest, especially to be honest with friends and with strangers. They replied with a long and warm hung that seemed to last so long that I can still feel it now, so many hours later. I also got a medal and that was especially good. Then the helped me stand up and lead me to the recovery tent were I was rewarded with a variety of cups of homemade soup, applause, photographs and applause.
It was great! It was the best birthday I have had in so many years. While I was full of doubt, I was pushed, challenged, encouraged, toughened, refined and so many other words that can only describe with wonderful feelings. I could have chosen to stay at home on my birthday working on the old house that I’ve been working to restore. Or I could go out and live life, to be with people who I love, old friends and new who love me. I know I made the right choice.
As the post-race party began to wound down, I helped take down signs, clean up, and do what needed to be done before being dismissed. I gathered my belongings and began to walk into the back of the campground where my truck was parked. It was the only remaining vehicle there. As I walked back there I couldn’t help but notice the beauty of winter forest. So many naked trees, stone cold camp sites, it was empty, cold, and very windy. The reservoir was mostly drained, just massive chunks of ice and tree stumps stood out. I really felt alone and isolated here and I was overpowered by once more, I’m alone and that makes me sad.
Please accept my apology but I really need to share this with you. As I got to my truck I was struck with so much sadness it was weakening. I may have cried at the finish line but now I was bawling. I was crying like a parent who just heard the worst news, like patient who just received their “deathdate.” I was so weakened by this but I kept going, after all it was cold and it was just starting to rain. I hate it when I cry on my birthday; it’s been so long since it’s happened.
I asked myself out loud, “Why am I so sad? I had just finished when I didn’t think I could, why do I feel such pain, such overwhelming sadness? Before I could even finish my question the answer came to me. I’m sad and I’m crying because I just spent the best day of the year with some of the best friends I have. Do I have to wait another year to see them? That’s why I’m sad, that’s why I’m crying and that’s why you’ll see me at more races.
In order to be happy and at peace with myself I have to surround myself with positive-like minded people and that’s why I’m going to continue to train for the next race. It’s also why I’m going to be a positive role model to the many others who I meet in life, those who are stuck in mud and thinking about giving up. We have to stick together if we want to finish.
Thank you for allowing me to open my own personal HUFF 2008 odyssey, this type of emotional strip-tease is not typical for me. Am happy to share my experience with others, perhaps you have had a similar time, perhaps not.
--jerryshepherd1227@yahoo.com
“Tell me about the God you don’t believe in and I’ll likely agree with you!”
Monday, December 22, 2008
5 Days & Counting
5 days and counting……
In 5 days I’ll be turning another year older and I’m not sure how to feel about it. I really didn’t think I’d ever reach this age, somehow it always seemed that I would be swept away by a hurricane, abducted by aliens, or worst of all, become lost in time travel and never grow above the age of 18. Not this time it seems, I’m now reaching double 4s.
Ten years ago when I was turning 34, I celebrated it by running 34 miles. It was the most I’d ever run at one time and it was a memorable experience. It became a turning point in my life and the rest of my 30’s was spent running 55 marathons or ultra marathons. It was an amazing experience running in 23 states, what a way to see the country—step by step. And I met some of the most wonderful and encouraging people, total strangers who on so many occasions offered such powerful words of support as if they’d known me all my life. Several of these people would be at many of these races that I completed, and so we became friends, or even better yet, we were like family. This is what compels me to run obscene distances in a short period of time.
This will be my first ultra in more than 3 years; it takes time for running injuries to heal as well as for the body to acclimate to running for so long, likely up to 8 hours this time. Somehow this race seems like it will be different, and maybe it’s because already, it seems as if it’ll be the last one. Something seems different this time and I can’t quite put my finger on.
It’s my birthday, so it naturally fits that is past the time that I finally just quit, doesn’t it? I’ve always felt that birthdays are to be celebrated by friends, family, people who you love. I don’t celebrate my own and haven’t for years. In fact, I feel odd and out of place on my birthday and so I attempt to run from it.
Growing up there were enough bad memories created that day; my brothers fighting with me, confining me to a closet and striking me with an ice skate and boot; and then at age 16 when I forgot to shave and created such an “embarrassment” to my dad that he erupted into a violent rage and I couldn’t swim in sectionals the next week because of all the bruises covering my body. So for me and my birthday, I’m really ok if no one knows, no one calls, and no one cares, it’s just another day, really.
It will be fun running, walking, whatever it takes to complete the Huntington Ultra Frigid Fifty. If there’s anything I’ve learned from running these is that while I can’t run from my problems, I can run through them.
In 5 days I’ll be turning another year older and I’m not sure how to feel about it. I really didn’t think I’d ever reach this age, somehow it always seemed that I would be swept away by a hurricane, abducted by aliens, or worst of all, become lost in time travel and never grow above the age of 18. Not this time it seems, I’m now reaching double 4s.
Ten years ago when I was turning 34, I celebrated it by running 34 miles. It was the most I’d ever run at one time and it was a memorable experience. It became a turning point in my life and the rest of my 30’s was spent running 55 marathons or ultra marathons. It was an amazing experience running in 23 states, what a way to see the country—step by step. And I met some of the most wonderful and encouraging people, total strangers who on so many occasions offered such powerful words of support as if they’d known me all my life. Several of these people would be at many of these races that I completed, and so we became friends, or even better yet, we were like family. This is what compels me to run obscene distances in a short period of time.
This will be my first ultra in more than 3 years; it takes time for running injuries to heal as well as for the body to acclimate to running for so long, likely up to 8 hours this time. Somehow this race seems like it will be different, and maybe it’s because already, it seems as if it’ll be the last one. Something seems different this time and I can’t quite put my finger on.
It’s my birthday, so it naturally fits that is past the time that I finally just quit, doesn’t it? I’ve always felt that birthdays are to be celebrated by friends, family, people who you love. I don’t celebrate my own and haven’t for years. In fact, I feel odd and out of place on my birthday and so I attempt to run from it.
Growing up there were enough bad memories created that day; my brothers fighting with me, confining me to a closet and striking me with an ice skate and boot; and then at age 16 when I forgot to shave and created such an “embarrassment” to my dad that he erupted into a violent rage and I couldn’t swim in sectionals the next week because of all the bruises covering my body. So for me and my birthday, I’m really ok if no one knows, no one calls, and no one cares, it’s just another day, really.
It will be fun running, walking, whatever it takes to complete the Huntington Ultra Frigid Fifty. If there’s anything I’ve learned from running these is that while I can’t run from my problems, I can run through them.
My morning run in the rain.
Last night we were warned of impending doom from our local television news that an ice storm was about to overwhelm us with as much strength as a plague. There would be business and school closings, and since the city of Indianapolis is on a “tight budget” there would be very limited salting of the roads. It was as if rapture were coming in the form of an abdominal ice monster and we were certain to loose what pitifully remained of our lives outside of our deep admiration of those smartly dressed and eloquently spoken newscasters. I went to bed early in an attempt to sleep off my fear-buzz and it was a good idea since I awoke at the typical 4am, no alarm clock restlessness.
You know that feeling you get on the morning when you have to attend a funeral? It’s like you went to bed with a belly full of nickels and dimes—you just feel so heavy and throwing up won’t make it any better so you just keep moving and focus on the next time you can drop into bed again, forget everything you’ve experienced and move back to dreamland. On the other hand, you can throw on layers of running clothes, preferably dark clothing then out the door you go, and that’s what I did.
At a little after 4am, the near east side of Indianapolis is a ghost town, only a couple police cars and the occasional trash truck make their way past, providing a mist of road dirt in their wake. It doesn’t happen much because after just 1 block of road running I run into the forbidden darkness of the park. The stream that runs through the park is banked with trails that lead for about a mile up stream to the railroad tracks. From there I climb the timbers on the trestle and this is where the run begins.
How far do I go? It depends on how much time I’ve given myself; after all I have to be at work before 9. Generally I plan on running between bridges. Today I’m running up to Arlington Avenue. Otherwise I’d make it Shadeland Avenue or I-465. No more than 10 miles and no less than 6, and that is how I started my day!
You know that feeling you get on the morning when you have to attend a funeral? It’s like you went to bed with a belly full of nickels and dimes—you just feel so heavy and throwing up won’t make it any better so you just keep moving and focus on the next time you can drop into bed again, forget everything you’ve experienced and move back to dreamland. On the other hand, you can throw on layers of running clothes, preferably dark clothing then out the door you go, and that’s what I did.
At a little after 4am, the near east side of Indianapolis is a ghost town, only a couple police cars and the occasional trash truck make their way past, providing a mist of road dirt in their wake. It doesn’t happen much because after just 1 block of road running I run into the forbidden darkness of the park. The stream that runs through the park is banked with trails that lead for about a mile up stream to the railroad tracks. From there I climb the timbers on the trestle and this is where the run begins.
How far do I go? It depends on how much time I’ve given myself; after all I have to be at work before 9. Generally I plan on running between bridges. Today I’m running up to Arlington Avenue. Otherwise I’d make it Shadeland Avenue or I-465. No more than 10 miles and no less than 6, and that is how I started my day!
Friday, December 19, 2008
Ignore the date, this is actually a post from December 11, 2008
December 11, 2008.Happy Holidays, that’s what it’s suppose to be this time of year although for some people it’s easier said than done. Today I joined several of my coworkers from the Eli Lilly Oncology Platform Team at the Indiana University Cancer Center to pass out cookies and punch as well as sing Christmas carols to cancer patients, their families, and staff members of the cancer center. It seemed like it was going to be a pretty easy day, but it was anything but easy; it was heartbreaking seeing these patients who are likely facing their last Christmas.
I dressed in my Santa Clause suit, complete with the beard, wig, and hat so I wasn’t easily recognized. It did have its fun moments though. My tall and thin physique in a Santa suit was almost a mockery of the historical appearance of the overly large, or obese physique of Santa Clause. At one point we gathered in the Infusion Clinic where patients reclined in stuffed comfortable chairs while receiving chemotherapy. As we sang carols, some of the patients just sat back, rolling their eyes and likely wishing we’d take our happiness some place else. I noticed one man there, he looked to be in his 50’s and he couldn’t stop smiling the entire time and he began laughing when I winked at him.
Next we went to the Bone Marrow Unit where patients were held up in isolation. We were told to touch nothing, not even the handrails in the hall. As we strolled through singing, family members peaked through the blinds and waved. Even though their faces were covered with masks, I could still see tears in their eyes. Some patients waved from their beds while others were so weak, they could barely look up. I was glad that my white fizzy wig covered my eyes so my tears could be hidden. It was so hard to sing while feeling overwhelmed with emotion.
Later in the day, as we were preparing to leave, I ran into the patient who I winked at in the Infusion Clinic and I introduced myself. While I was still wearing that flashy red suit, my wig, beard, and hat returned to my bag. His name is Luke and he tells me that he is from Ohio and being successfully treated for testicular cancer. He also told me that he was 26 years old; it was a short, but nice conversation with such a great guy. It’s so unfair what cancer does to the human body.
After we returned to the office for a short while, I headed up to the holiday party at my former employer, the US Attorney’s Office. It is about 6 blocks away and I walked the entire way with the Santa suit on, minus the beard, hat and wig. It was a lot of fun as everyone I passed offered a wide and friendly smile and pleasant comments. Even the homeless people seemed to forget their situation and smiled. I’ve finally found a new power suit.
When I walked into the conference room it was full of federal agents, prosecutors, and other vital supportive staff members. Needless to say that for them it was a moment of shock and awe; everyone looked at my, but not many wanted to talk to me and who could blame them, I’m such a non-conformist. Maybe it was a joke, or even a set-up, but I was asked to be in a photo with a group of 5 very well dressed and smart looking handsome men; FBI agents, naturally. Oh boy, I’m sure that photo will find its way into my “file” and so much for ever getting that job with the State Department. As I was leaving one of my favorite people was just arriving. Susan is a highly respected member of the community. Besides that, she’s also one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. And she’s such a great speakers, everything about her just exudes self confidence, she really lights up the room where ever she goes. When she saw me, she immediately began laughing and asked, “Did that Lilly job fall through?”
It seems pretty clear that they miss me there and would be glad to have my come back to work for them.
It was fun, but I still couldn’t shake those feelings of sadness from my experience at the cancer center. I went home, let out the dog, but realized I shouldn’t be alone with my grief. Two holiday parties in one day, why not attend a third. I reapplied the beard, wig, and hat and headed over to the Indianapolis Neighborhood Resource Center for their holiday party. Too bad for me that I was late and walked in wearing the full Santa regalia. The speaker at the podium broke into laughter and the room filled with giggling grins. Did they know who I was? Unfortunately yes, as there are not many people around with my build and status of having a closet full of costumes. My reputation supersedes me and I’m going to keep that asset close to my heart and keep trying to have fun with it.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Today provided another great opportunity for growth. As promised I attended the Christmas party for the Felege Hiwyot Center (Ethopian for Directions for Life) dressed in my Santa suit, sans beard and wig. It was a really big hit for the kids and there were about 30 of them, all from poor neighborhoods and likely broken families where violence is thought of as “just what happens to everyone.” This was my second year of participating with this group and things changed a lot. My job was to assist them in creating origami Christmas bells. It’s an easy process even though it requires more than 16 folds of square construction paper. And that is what makes it so much fun; it seems impossible, but with adequate coaching (rule #1, don’t yell) then the kids can make several of them, and they did just that. Once they had a collection of them, the bells were then hung from a hyper-extended coat hanger and that is their homemade Christmas decoration. Kind of looks like something Martha Stewart made while in lock up.
I came across this quote from the blog of a very special friend.
The depth of intimacy comes with a heaviness, a gravitational pull toward the fiery center of things. Love and death are inseparable. But once you get past the fear of falling, you realize falling sort of feels like flying.
Could that description be any closer to the truth?
I came across this quote from the blog of a very special friend.
The depth of intimacy comes with a heaviness, a gravitational pull toward the fiery center of things. Love and death are inseparable. But once you get past the fear of falling, you realize falling sort of feels like flying.
Could that description be any closer to the truth?
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