The slow, inspiring walker

[Beyond the Bets]

So, a few years ago, I had told my friends that I would run a marathon. Never mind that I had never in my life ran more than five or six continuous miles. Never mind that I only had, what, two to three months to train. Never mind that the marathon would be ran in mid-October on Kansas City streets that are usually cold and frigid that time of year.

To hell with all that, I said. I was absolutely, positively going to run the Kansas City marathon and I was going to do fantastic. I registered for the event and then dug a stop watch out of a drawer and off I went for the first of many "training runs."

Twenty minutes later, I was back inside chugging a Diet Mountain Dew, wondering why in the world my knee was hurting so bad. The next day, it was my foot. Then I had a sudden heel injury. Come to find out, I was overtraining — "You're doing too much, too soon," a friend of mine said.

My injuries became so bad that I had to stop running altogether. Then, I had lost most of my motivation. I probably ran only a handful of times the entire month of September, and never did I run more than eight or nine miles.

The calendar eventually flipped to October, and it became fairly uncomfortable to run outside on knees and feet that still felt unstable. So, I started to run inside on the track at the rec center, and did so just about every day, a few miles at a time.

I usually went late at night when there were only a handful of people on the track at a given time. One of those people, an elderly man who I estimate to be in his 70s, was there every night. He pushed a walker around the track, which was 1/8th of a mile.

Except, this man wasn't walking. Or at least I wouldn't characterize his movements as walking. This man walked so slow that he'd take maybe 10 or 15 steps in the amount of time it took me to run a full lap. Oh, and by the way: These steps were painful. Almost excruciating. He would cringe in pain as he walked, but he always seemed fairly determined to keep pushing ahead.

Heel, toe, heel, toe, heel, toe. That was the pace he would walk at. The rec center had a split in the middle, and the man would always walk through the split rather than all the way around the track. Then, he was done.

Here is an exclusive rendering of what the track looked like and the path that the elderly man often took:



Anyway, I continued to go to the rec center and continued to be fascinated by this man who kept walking day after day despite being in obvious pain. I would listen to Springsteen on my iPod, and songs of struggle would come on, songs like "The Wrestler," and I would look at this man and just feel horrible for him.

Then, one day, must have been two or three days before I was set to run the marathon, the man didn't take his usual turn. He kept going straight ahead.

In my head, I thought: "This crazy son of a bitch! This is a death trap, it's a suicide rap!" And yet, onward he went.

Even though I had already finished my run, I stuck around to see how this thing turned out. "No way will this man make it all the way around," I said to myself.

And so, I waited. And waited. And waited. I read a novel. Then I played a game of ping pong. Then I went to the bathroom. Then I played a game of pick-up basketball, maybe two, maybe three, maybe four. The man was still not done. He kept walking and walking and walking, pushing ahead, writhing in pain.

Eventually, I could see him coming down the home stretch, and he looked spent. I reached into my pocket and retrieved a few $1 bills, then went down the steps to the vending machine. I figured it would be a nice gesture to reward him with an Aquafina after his heroic walk.

Unfortunately, by the time I got up the stairs, the man was surrounded by a half-dozen people. He had collapsed and wasn't breathing and paramedics were on their way.

(No, I'm kidding.)

"Heck of a walk," I said to the man.

"Ah, shit," he said. "Hardly broke a sweat."

[Beyond the Bets]

Oh, shoot. In case you are wondering, I did finish the marathon. Several months later, I ran another one in Buffalo. I wasn't nearly as successful in that one, but did nearly get hit by a train.

Yes ... a train.

[itg_sports]

You, my friend, are a story-telling s.o.b. if I ever saw one. I was riveted.

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And just so ya know...I've made up my mind and you can hold me to it. I'm running a marathon next year.

[louiemdj]

(12-28-2011 05:26 PM)Beyond the Bets Wrote:  Unfortunately, by the time I got up the stairs, the man was surrounded by a half-dozen people. He had collapsed and wasn't breathing and paramedics were on their way.