Lapped By the Sun:
By John Prohira
A Bargain
Weeks before my 50th birthday I came to the conclusion that there is indeed no free lunch as we move through this life. Some things are more expensive than others but the savvy buyer usually gets what he pays for. Bargains can be found. Payment must be made in many forms. Sacrifice, time or attention can be required to attain that which is deemed valuable. It is a big world we pass through and there are many ways to live. But the clock ticks. There is a finite amount of time given us to find and take what we will. . . and pay for it.
Thoughts careening between my ears before the start of this year's Hinte-Anderson Trail (HAT) 50k involved the costs of what I hold dear. I love this part of our country, just south of the Mason-Dixon Line. I left Rochester on Friday, March 26th at noon and grew excited moving through southern Pennsylvania as the world outside my van began to take on a gentler appearance. Trees were beginning to leaf and tulips, hyacinths and other spring annuals bloomed as if to smile at spring's warm glow. I watched Amish farmers working their fields; heavy plows being pulled behind teams of horses. I speculated about the cost they accept in order to remain true to their culture. Can their land produce as much as that farmed using modern technology? I saw young boys I believed to be Amish or Mennonite riding bicycles along the highway, returning home after school, and wondered whether they were subjected to ridicule by school mates over their clothing and way of life. After coming of age, young people of these communities are allowed to venture into the larger world, deciding for themselves whether or not to choose the life of their forefathers. Many if not most return to the land and an uncomplicated world. They are prepared to pay what is demanded from their society. Theirs is a choice of the simpler life.
The evening before the race was warm and humid. I knew that if the morrow arrived without a weather change extra care would have to be paid to hydration and bodily function. But sometime during the night the rain came, taking humidity from the air and putting it on the ground. As the 16th annual HAT began temperatures had cooled and the air felt comfortable, the price for that being muddy trails and wet grass. A bargain.
418 men and woman began the run at 9 a.m., atop a knoll at the Steppingstone Museum in Susquehanna State Park along the banks of the river bearing that name. It would be within the park's boundaries that the 15-mile course was run, twice. Those loops and a mile of asphalt at the beginning added up to 50k. That first mile did a good job of thinning out the crowd before we entered the trail system. The rest of the race was through meadow, on single-track dirt (read muddy) trail through the woods and some pavement that was gloriously downhill.
I moved on the trail comfortably, helped by knowledge gained from running this event many times before. The first water crossing came two miles into the run with stepping stones for those hoping to keep their feet dry. Rather than risk slipping off a rock and getting wet anyway, I chose to run through the water. Soon after this part of the course the trail twists back upon itself, almost encircling a section of the woods. This year as in the past deer were caught in that circle and panicked. I knew they would break through the line of runners and yelled a warning ahead. The frightened animals blasted through our procession, grazing the shirts of runners just ahead of me. A runner-deer collision would have been a nasty price to pay for a day in the Maryland woods and I know all were relieved that that did not happen.
About 10 minutes later unexpected and painful payment was demanded of me. While running downhill with a big and easy stride, I turned my right ankle. No big deal. I righted myself but twisted my left ankle in the process. That twist took my left leg out with it while I remained upright and ouch! I felt it from my hip down to my toes. The pain was exquisite and I wiped tears from my eyes as my stride drastically shortened. I hobbled on, hoping that the damage was minimal and temporary. Perhaps stopping would have been the wisest thing to do, but Mrs. Prohira's boy Johnny is not the brightest crayon in the box. I decided that I would at least finish one loop and see what happened. A couple of people told me that I was not visibly limping or favoring that side of my body, which was just what I wanted to hear and reason enough to continue. A finish would require some discomfort. . . a fair enough trade.
But why continue? Ego has a lot to do with it. That and wanting to finish what I had told others and myself I would. There was a time when I would have allowed the difficulty to dictate whether a task was completed or not, often leaving the painful or hard endeavor undone. The hours spent on the trail have offered me lessons, some accepted and learned from: How can one savor pleasure without knowing pain, self confidence without experiencing doubt, strength without understanding the lack of it? I wanted to see what would happen.
So I would play it out and try to finish, willing to pay with the coin demanded. What I'd purchase would be the chance to continue looking about this little piece of the world along the river and to share the trail and the experience of the day with my fellow runners. I promised myself I would remember the day as it was and not bitch about it.
The runners ahead me formed a line that looked like a waving ribbon or a thread being woven into the canopy and onto the meadow. We moved with common purpose. That commonality and the camaraderie I immerse myself during the ultra intoxicates me. I like being with these people who value what I value, those willing to pay for what they take with effort and sacrifice and yes, pain.
During my second loop of the race rain began; just enough to help wash the salt from my face. Entering the trail system for the second time I took note of the winter's storm damage. There were many downed trees and freshly cut and stacked piles wood off the side of the trail. At the bottom of one steep trail just before the 10 and 25-mile aid station a water powered gristmill stood along the river. Soon after, when leaving a wooded section of the course, the race's end could be heard and seen. The finish line was only 1/4 mile away as the crow flies but two miles as dictated by Hinte-Anderson.
Coming out of trail system and onto the final meadow, my tour over the HAT course was near completed. Up the asphalt incline to the accolades of those waiting, many who had finished long ago, I was happy to be done and glad to have persevered. It was the right choice for me. There were refreshments to be enjoyed and excellent conversation full of wit. Before the afternoon was over 329 runners would cross the finish line. I say it again; I like these people, their spirit and their gentle nature. The strain of a glute muscle or a pain in my ass was a bargain price to pay for this day.
Before the race a friend gave me a copy of Johnny Cash's last CD. It is bittersweet and somewhat dark. The Man in Black knew that his time on earth was ending as he completed this final effort. The gift inspired me to listen to other songs written by Cash, performed by him and others. My favorite was written with Randy Scruggs and sung along with Joan Osborne. It's called Passin' Thru. I understand its message about the impermanence of life and the analogy that we are only passing through this world. Keeping that thought close helps me appreciate the things worth striving for, worth paying for. The easier way is not always best. Ultrarunning is only a small part of that mighty world I'm passin thru, but I allow it to represent the struggle for better things in life. It's the vehicle I use to meditate and think. The time spent in that physical mediation allows for thought to flow and for me to glimpse a better part of me. A bargain if I ever found one!
I sign off with lyrics and a quotation, the words of Cash, Scruggs and Emerson. I think Emerson would not have minded that company.
Happy Trails,
John (passin' thru)
I have stood upon the mountain
I have seen the other side
I have wrestled with the devil
I have wrestled with my pride
I have been down in the valley
I have stood out in the rain
I have seen my love forsaken
Felt the pleasure and the pain
There's one thing that's for certain
One chord that rings true
It's a mighty world we live in
But the truth is, we're only passin' thru
— From "Passin Thru" by Johnny Cash and Randy Scruggs
and
"God said, take what you will, but pay of it."
— Emerson
Peace,
John