So, I’m feeling a little nostalgic. My friend, who was “Sherpa” on the venture I share below is about to do a century bike ride (that’s 100 miles, if you didn’t know) in Moab, Utah (aka: the middle of nowhere). I wish I could be there to return the Sherpa favor, but since I can’t this will have to do…
DISCLAIMER: This post is full of “you-had-to-be-there” references. This one’s for you, Sherpa.
I have been thinking about writing this post for a couple of weeks now, but somehow I needed to process the whole experience before I could say something more than, “It was great!”
Really? “Process the whole experience?” Who am I?
Well, it was GREAT! The whole thing, from start to finish, except the fact that I didn’t get my pre-race dinner of the “Anchors Aweigh” sandwich, but even that ended up working in my favor by giving me something to look forward to other than the finish line! Yes, everything was more fun and way easier than I imagined, no kidding!
Of course, there was at least one reason for that. Yes, the best part, the part that was truly amazing was sharing it with “Sherpa Extraordinaire: KPD!” I mean really, who else would get up with you at 3:00 a.m. (as in…the…morning – it is dark at 3:00 a.m. and it stays dark for a long time after 3:00 a.m.)? Who else would break a number of traffic laws while half of the Florida State Patrol police force was within arms reach? Who else would run back to the car in the EPCOT parking lot (have you ever been to the EPCOT parking lot?!) to find my gloves for me (well, it was one fabulous parking space, but really). Who else would tell a bold-face lie to that nice volunteer who was just trying to help – oh wait, that wasn’t a lie, that was acting! Cinderella, step aside. Who else would walk like a sardine (work with me here, if sardines could walk, you get the picture) along with 27,000 other nuts just to make sure that her friend knew where the heck she should go and what she should do? Like how to get into a start corral – with or without a race number – and that is real knowledge, my friends. Who else would be one side of a make-shift latrine in front of said 27,000 people? (let’s not mention why, shall we?) And who else would run for half a mile without a race bib before making a quick and stealth-like getaway. And did I mention that this was all while video taping the whole thing – and I mean the whole 72 hours or at least the highlights? I’m not kidding. It was amazing.
There is no doubt that this experience – from start, which began here: (http://wp.me/pJ4M8-j) to finish, which culminated here, was less about running and way more about friends helping friends put one foot in front of the other.