Pine Creek Challenge

 Pine Creek Challenge: Race Recap

It truly started with tacos. We were out, and the race came up. I honestly wasn’t trying to get him to run it with me, and I don’t think I said more than a couple of sentences. Something along the lines of “I have no expectations. I just want to see what possible. I really miss the community. Now, pass the salsa. The mild stuff not the hot stuff. I’m a wuss”

He couldn’t have gotten past his driveway when I got a text. “You got me. I’m in”

I was overjoyed. Next came the talks about weather…and gear…and terrains. It felt so familiar. So comfortable. So in my wheelhouse. Like a fire that had grown dim, coming ablaze again!

He picked me up in the POURING rain. Mother Nature has and never will disappoint on race day! We chatted along the ride. Each giving the other escape routes and each knowing we wouldn’t take them. He finally said, “You set the pace. I’ll follow your lead”. And, that’s exactly what happened. Our “why’s” for doing this race were completely different, but both grounded in medical conditions that changed the way we can push our bodies.

Once we were racing, that old familiar ultra community started to envelop us. A woman noticed Rog and quietly asked “Are you healthy?” They both smiled at the answer. “It’s wonderful having you back here”. I felt her words.

When we stumbled upon a runner, sitting alone on a bench, looking….ROUGH. Neither Rog nor I had to say anything to each other. We just asked him “what do you need?” We both dove into our packs to get this guy moving. Really, all he needed was someone to notice him. To ask how he was. To bring him up after he had mentally been bringing himself down. We left him in far better condition than we found him.

Then there was the runner who thanked us. He had been pacing behind us and never let the “red and white shirts” out of his vision. We were steady. We were moving at a predictable pace. He needed us and we had no idea.

Finally, we watched a group of five or six “competitors”. We laughed because we knew they were supporting each other. Someone would tell a story that was just a little too long, but no runner would break the pack to miss a detail. Someone would sing. Someone would be funny. They each had a role and they offered what they had.

Rog and I took every step shoulder to shoulder. We stopped to watch eagles soar. We shared, and laughed and talked about next steps. There was no talk of quitting. “The barn door is open…let’s get through it!”

When we crossed the finish line, Rog announced “she’s had a double hip replacement.” I didn’t miss a beat and echoed “He’s a survivor”. The RD said, you two did this as a team. And, we certainly did!

It really does take a village.

Thank you Roger Niethe!