Showing posts from November, 2013

Once a Masochist, always a masochist

I took a little jog in the woods about two weeks ago. It started before first light and ended within an hour of the sun's final shine. Yep. That's a long time. But why? Was something/someone chasing me? No. Was I getting paid to do this? Unfortunately not. Did I lose a bet? Hardly. About twenty years ago, David Horton said to me, "Betcha can't run fifty miles." I proved him wrong after he goaded me with his snide remark. I ran that distance for the first time in 1994 and came in second place for the women. Since then, I placed first, claimed a bunch more seconds, a third, and then stopped counting positions when I ran out of wiggly little tootsies to help me count. One year I left town on race day so I wouldn't be tempted to run on still-recovering feet and ankles post surgery. Twice I ran the whole course but as a sweeper, picking up streamers marking the way, and keeping an eye on the folks at the end of the long train winding it's way through the fore