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Today’s Blog Post
(Emma Crossing the Finish line)
Flash back...
It was a long time ago, I think 48 years now, that I remember the burning in my chest as I crossed the finish line in Calgary. So long ago!
I was racing cross country with my University Cross Country Team, representing the Regina Campus of the University of Saskatchewan (which later became the University of Regina).
We had trained every night for two months. We ran 6 miles each evening after class. In the new way of thinking that is 9.65 kms in today’s thinking. Then at the end of the season, in Calgary, we ran the one big race of 4.5 miles (7.25 kms) over the country side and down by the Bow River, back up a hill and then on to the home stretch.
Each night of training I thought my head would blow off. I gasped for air during the first few weeks and the leg cramps were something else. I really thought that I would die at some point in the Team run.
After the two months of training and just the week before we were to run in Calgary my ankle snapped while playing soccer. I was forward on the right side. While hard and very fast with the ball, I let a great kick go just as the goalie put his foot on the other side of the ball. I heard the bone do something strange and my leg disappeared from the waist down. I fell over in pain.
The doctor told me that the lowest part of the one lower leg bone was chipped off. He showed me the X-Ray. There it was floating free and easy in my foot… and hurting like – “OWIEEE!”
Nothing could be done and he said that it would heal in time, on its own. Keep it wrapped and don’t do anything too strenuous. I dared not ask him about running on it for 6 miles a night – or 4.5 miles in the big race 9 days from that visit.
9 Days later I lined up with everyone else at that start line in Calgary and when the starter’s pistol fired so did my body… and away I went.
The ankle was wrapped tightly with a huge elastic bandage. And it worked fairly well to keep most of the pain down. For the last week it had gone okay.
About a hundred yards into the race everyone had passed me and were over the next hill already.
Every step my ankle screamed at me, “Stop you fool it hurts too bad!” so I adjusted to the new rhythm of walk ten, run ten, walk ten, run ten….
It worked. As I came down the hill toward the river everyone else had likely finished the race by that time.
I considered laying down and dying but the option of not being able to let anyone know where I was kind of kept me going.
I looked up and there on the hill side was another runner that was lying quietly in the grass, off to the edge of the path. He wasn’t moving too well and was kind of moaning. Then to my right and behind me was an ambulance making its way to this spot.
I walked up the hill then went back to the run ten, walk ten routine.
At the 45 minute mark I crossed the finish line. My ankle was huge, the bandages were tighter than anything and I wanted to die of embarrassment being the last person to cross the finish line. I was number 49 out of 50.
The guy that won the race ran bare foot and made it in 21 minutes. That guys done before I reached the river.
When I took of the bandages my foot wouldn’t hold any weight at all. The pain was just too great.
Our team needed to have all five runners complete the race. The Team was could be 7 members, but there was only five of us to go to Calgary so I HAD TO RUN.
That Flash back over and Flash forward to yesterday…
I was standing on Aylmer street by the YMCA. My two grandkids, Clifford and Emma were lined up and ready to do. They were running the 5k race in among many, many people.
Clifford came in 49 out of 149 of his gender at a time of 22 minutes.
Emma came in 54 out of 221 of her gender at a time of 28 minutes.
And Grandpa Lincoln nearly bust the zipper on his winter coat… and the Flash back came… I used to do this.
As I looked up at the runners still coming across the finish line was a few old gray haired guys like me. They were slow and they looked like they were going to die. They looked terrible, but they crossed the finish line.
I wasn’t sure but one kind of looked like an older version of the guy that was being picked up by the ambulance 48 years ago. Naw, it couldn’t be… he is probably dead now.
Anyway… This Grandpa is more than a little bit proud of two special grandkids… and in a special way I relived that one important race over again. I didn’t quit and I didn’t die at that time.
Oh by the way… the Doctor told me that when I passed the 60 year mark in life… the ankle would likely give me much problems with the damage that was done.
It doesn’t hurt yet…
Maybe next year I will run/walk with the 5k run. I know I can do that. Hmmmm?
~ Murray Lincoln ~
http://www.murraylincoln.com/
Clifford (in the Orange Shirt) crossing the Finish line - above and below - making it look just too easy
Emma crossing the Finish line - and I know that look on her face - she is ABOUT TO DIE... just like her Grandpa did!!!
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