Today’s Riverside State Park Trail Run was supposed to be the pinnacle achievement of 8+ months of training, my shout of defiance against the darkness of cancer, perhaps. Okay, maybe I never saw it quite that dramatically, but at times over the past couple of years, it came close.
In a situation almost comically predictable, the race was canceled. Twenty-six months ago, a half-inch by half-inch mass knocked me out of my first 50k. This time, it was a blanket of smoke that will probably be cleared out enough to run the same trail tomorrow.
Once we had confirmation this morning that the race wasn’t going forward, we had to do something. My brother Geoff had flown in all the way from Winnipeg and we'd been cooped up for days like everyone else, hiding from the smoke. The air was rated healthy up at Mt. Spokane so we headed up there with Rachelle and the Proof of Life filmmaker Adam.
Midway through our refreshing eight mile run, Geoff pointed out that if the race had gone forward, we wouldn’t have been able to run together.
By noon, the three of us were sipping cider in a tasting room at Greenbluff, followed by an hour and a half relaxing in the shade at a craft brewery.
Now it’s 6:30 and we’re about to eat burgers. Yes, there’s a layer of disappointment there, but there are a lot of blessings, too, including many friends who were planning to run with and support me today had the race gone forward. Life is rich and full of goodness.
The last race of the season is at Hell’s Gate October 28 so that will probably be my 50k shot. Back to the training grind!