The Imogene Pass Run is this weekend, but because of the CoVid-19 Pandemicit’s been turned into a virtual race. Hardly seems fair, but then again, who really cares what I think. My running career came to an ignominious end a few years ago anyway. This week’s blog essay is a re-post of an earlier essay chronicling the end of my running career. I’ve added a few things, and updated one or two changes that have happened within the past year or so.

 

Word Count: 1198

All Mediocre Things

Thankfully Come to an End

 

I had an inkling my run/racing career was more or less finished during participation in the 2018 Fourth of July 10K race here in Silverton. Since I hadn’t really done any sort of preparation prior to the race (Training? I don’t need no stink’in training…), my strategy was simple; start out slow. Only problem with that plan of attack was the fact that things essentially got slower as the race progressed (I hate it when that happens).

Pretty soon I found myself towards the back of the pack, and by the time I stumbled across the finish line I’m pretty sure I was one of the last finishers that morning (if not dead last?). Right as I crossed the finish line, I decided to put an end to this whole racing thing. Any sort of delusional dreams I might’ve had back in my youth about competing in the Summer Olympics as a track athlete had as much weight to them as a paper airplane maneuvering through a Midwest tornado. At least the paper airplane might looked good while it’s flying through the sky, right?

My solution, and one that I’ve fallen back on over the years-has been to volunteer to help out with these races the day of the event. Gives me a nice way to keep my hand in it even though I’m not competing anymore. I’m actually somewhat proud that I had a running career to begin with. When I mentioned to a friend that my racing career has essentially over, his reply was that; “Unlike you, my racing career never really got started in the first place.”

In summer 2019, because we had a phenomenal amount of snow the previous winter, the Hardrock 100 Race was cancelled. Race didn’t even happen, and I almost felt cheated since helping out with the HardRock Aid Station in Telluride would’ve taken place the second weekend of July. I’m sure a few other folks involved with the race felt the same way. The Town of Silverton in particular, since Hardrock 100 and all the people involved with the race in one form or another, bring a sizable chunk of revenue to the town’s coffers among other things. Along those lines, the 2020 edition of the race got cancelled, so the HardRock hasn’t happened for two years in a row. Things just keep getting stranger and stranger, and I don’t think we’re living inside a bad science fiction novel, are we?

The newest edition of Kendall Mountain Run took place in 2019 though, and I helped out at the finish line for the event. Early in the morning of the race as I was riding my bike to assist with the start, I couldn’t help but envision what things were like for the Kendall Race back in the early days of the event. All those years ago things were much smaller and it seemed almost innocent in its naivety. Attitudes weren’t quite as lackadaisical as that of the 4^th of July 10K, since it involved a 13-mile jaunt up to the summit of Mount Kendall, then back into town, things were taken on a more serious bent too.

I actually trained for the event, and started preparing way back in late winter. I must’ve been dedicated too since I went through a 5-year period where I only improved my time on the Kendall race from the previous year in 2-minute increments. Kept training and trying though, and spent lots of time running and preparing for the big “3” in my eyes (Kendall, Pikes Peak Marathon, and Imogene Pass). Back in the mid-80s, Ultra-Marathon racing hadn’t even been invented yet. Otherwise myself and a few of my buddies probably would’ve competed in those races too. Primarily because there’s just not enough suffering by participation in your standard running races.

This brings up another subject. I’ve also come to the simple conclusion that either I deluded myself into thinking that I actually had an inkling of talent, or maybe it was some sort of masochistic desire to spend inordinate amounts of time pushing myself physically while sucking for air at high altitudes. Runner’s High? I’ve got a special type of Runner’s High for you?

The Kendall Race has been taken over in the last ten years in terms of organization and implementation by an outfit called Aravaipa Running. The race itself is part of the Sky-Runner Racing Series, so that’s turned it into one of the more popular mountain runs out here in the 4-corners region of the west.

You can see it in the set-up for the finish line for one. As they draw closer to the town park, the runner turns the corner off of main and runs underneath an inflated archway, then across a grassy pathway once they enter the park-amidst cheers and clapping from the spectators as they cross the finish line. Very cool indeed since the pathway is also lined with colorful flags right up to the finish line. Why didn’t we have this sort of welcome to the race finish back in the early days of the Run? As I recall, one year primitive reasoning on the part of the organizers wasn’t even sure where the finish line should be located.

One thing that hasn’t changed, and gotten better and more organized, is the Kendall post-race picnic. Back in the early days, the post-race picnic was sort of thrown together by its organizers at the last minute. Cooking grills were donated by the town, and as things grew a local restaurant came to the rescue in the form of helping to supply the food. Since then, supplying and cooking the food has been taken over by the folks at San Juan County Search and Rescue and things are just better organized and more efficient. The post-race picnic has always been one of the things I really enjoy about the Kendall Run, and I’m extremely pleased to see that it’s still around.

We’ve all heard the old sayings, “The only constant in life is change,” and “Age and Father-Time Catches up to Everyone.” The Kendall race in 2019 was a classic example of that. A good friend of mine who’s been doing it ever since the early days of the race came across the finish line right as I was working the chute and handing out food vouchers. His exact words to me, “I think this might be it Dave. I can’t see myself doing this race again.” Indeed. I just beat him to the punch six years before he did, and I don’t blame him. Actually, it’s quite admirable how he’s been able to do the Kendall Race something like 40 times, and I only got my yearly masochism fix up to 31. Lightweight.

The 2020 edition of the Kendall race (because of CoVid-19) didn’t have a post-race picnic, and everything was socially distant. I volunteered, but running the post-race aid station and handing out items from a socially distant vantage point was almost too weird. Come to think of it, everything about this year has been just plain strange, and Kendall 2020 was no exception to that CoVid-19 rule.