Aspire

February 16, 2014

Greetings from the sparkle,

In the world of running, a ten mile race is an interesting distance. It is just beyond the casual competitor’s interest, just enough into the realm of challenge to give some people pause.  But, not so daunting that it seems unlikely without a radical change in lifestyle to train and complete.  It is distinctly American, standing out on any lists of races with ‘-k’ suffixes.

I called my brother and told him about this race, and it folded perfectly into a reason for a visit to the west coast.  In the next months, Doug urged his family to join him in the training to run ten miles.  And so we had a contingent.  Doug, his wife Lee, and their daughter Cali.

The day before the race I asked them if they had any idea about how fast they would run.
They were tentative, shy even, not wanting to sound overconfident, I think.  They each offered a soft goal, contingent on this or that, which made sense since none of them had raced this distance.   I wondered about how those would look a day later.

The morning teased us to deeper optimism, heightened our senses.  It was beautiful, even by southern California standards.  The sun broached the eastern foothills, lighting a cerulean sky, faultless, drawing our eyes from one horizon to the ocean.

We went through the ritual of prerace, loosening our muscles and tightening our shoelaces.  And then sifted into the crowd of brightly colored runners, stood for that eternal moment before the gun goes off and releases us into the road.  And then we ran.

Running with Doug was not new, but it had been too long since the last time.  We settled into a comfortable pace, and then let the conversation flow around the demands of running.

This was a piece I needed more than I might have realized.  Running along with Doug, chatting about subjects short enough to fit in between the demands of respiration, soaking in the sun, the world of color around us.  But just being in the company of my brother, sharing the experience of the run, was like a gift.

The day brought out the best in people.   The runners were working behind smiles, calling out to each other, high-fiving spectators.  People paused on the course, overwhelmed by the view of the ocean splashing on the edge of the world, the coast stretching away from us into a pale mist.

The miles rolled by, punctuated by twenty live bands, each encouraging us in their own repertoire.

Somewhere on the course, Cali bounded with the gazelle gracefulness that comes with youth.  She surged away from us smiling.  Lee passed us in the switchbacks, running her own race, glorying in the sunny morning, the sound of the surf competing with the cheers of the crowd.

Doug ran smart, keeping tabs on his energy, listening to his body.  Both of us were surprised how the miles piled up.  And then I sensed a change, felt him shift to another gear.  We surged to the eight mile, and in the ninth no one passed us.  And Doug said ‘Not leaving anything on the course’.

This was a familiar feeling, and I laughed a little as we began to grind out the last mile.  There is a joy in this, it is letting the horses out, letting the body do all it is capable of, demanding a little more just to see what really is there.   Doug pulled away from me in the last half mile, and I had to sprint to keep up as we charged down toward the finish line.

We both leaned on our knees, gasping for breath, whooping in victory, reveling in the moment, fully alive.  It is hard to describe, but this was less about defeating the clock, or even the distance.  It was more about pushing past a boundary, real or imagined, to see what lay on the other side.  And then celebrating the discovery.

We found the rest of our running party, and everyone finished faster than hoped.  As Sheehan has said; ‘…the heroes were out…’   There were plenty of reasons to celebrate over the weekend, and this just made the list complete.

A morning later I woke with this word in my head, the first thought from my time here: Aspire.

I will speak for myself, but I sense the need in all humans to feel a purpose, a reason to extend themselves.  There is hope in it, there is a necessary optimism that colors our lives when we aspire to drive ourselves beyond whatever the status quo has to offer.

This was another gift I am grateful for.   I loved seeing the aspirations of my fellow runners, and the passion that it evoked. The reminder of my own need to aspire. It came packaged in a ten mile run, a distance far more interesting than just an accumulation of yards.

Hope this finds you aiming higher,

David