Mortality and Its Ugly Head

In the past when I would read the story of a runner or cyclist who was struck by a car and either killed or injured, I would double take and more or less be grateful it was not me. Even Matt Long's incredible story, was not much more than a blip on my radar. Then one December day, it was me. But for the grace of God, and not having my ipod on, I was able to avoid being run over and instead had the bumper fly me over the car. It hurt, and still does, and I will carry scars, but at least I get to carry those scars for a few more years with the ones I love.
Sally Meyerhoff, one of the fastest female marathoners in the United States was tragically killed while she was out on her bike yesterday. Sally was an outsider for a trip to London, and had recently won the PF Chang's Marathon in Arizona. She has been referred to as vibrant and the life of any crowd, and it appears that respect for her in the running community was, and still is rampant.

From my standpoint however, there is a whole new level of sadness and empathy with Sally, who is no longer with us. She was out doing what she loved and was gifted by God to do. She was going to be running in the United States Woman's Olympic Trails next January. In fact, she was 27 years old, my age. The more I write this the more eerie it becomes, and the less I am even able to form my thoughts. However, there is one truth that I am realizing about us endurance athletes, and it springs from this incident. We are not invincible.

Somewhere out there in our hundreds of thousands of miles of running, and pain searing training sessions, we forget that we are stoppable. There are forces out there that are greater than our own will to control pain and endure. Even when we are faced with injuries that sideline us for a short time, we see it as a bump in the road and move on. Generally though, it is a multi-ton vehicle that gets the job done. Or for Aaron Rolston it was a large boulder in a Canyon. Yet seemingly for many runners and cyclists, its those multi ton vehicles (Steve Prefontaine, Sally Meyerhoff, myself). This is not the time nor place to debate motorist v peds and cyclists. Sometimes it is a life threatening or simply debilitating illness, such as the case with Bart Yasso.

It is as if God wants to remind us that we are not the greatest things to grace the planet. That there is so much our human bodies are bound to. That is a humbling thought. Athletes like us, and those that are far greater, have limits, we and they, are not invincible. That is what makes tragedies like these even harder to wrap our minds around. We want to think our heroes will live on forever, and become living legends. That, however, is not how God has ordered our universe though, and far too often we lose those that inspire us to greatness.

Perhaps non endurance athletes have to grapple with their mortalness more than those of us who are gluttons for punishment. Maybe it is something they tinker with in the back of their minds more than those of us who are looking to constantly figure out how adjust to whatever road blocks come our way physically. It is as if we see a solution to every problem that does not involve ending our never ceasing chase for athletic perfection. Then suddenly, like the wall at mile 20, it hits us. We see those in their prime get cut down and themselves, or their abilities leave us far soon. Often times, it is our own bodies that give us these nasty reminders.

Sally Meyerhoff will be greatly missed. All the legends of old still are, and while she was not a record setting runner, she was still a bright spot in the lives of the running world. She had the infectious smile that spoke of being carefree and almost limitless. Everyone in those situations always seems to have something that speaks to that desire to be limitless. Pre's stare that could freeze the water's of the Bahamas spoke to his fear of no thing or no man. The real fact is that we all meet an end, and some of us are lucky enough to realize early on by near brushes that an end is out there somewhere. That we are held within certain boundaries. However, may we never be without those who constantly seek to find the location of those boundaries, and who will continue to test the bounds of the physical. May that part of us, tempered as it may be by these circumstances, always remain slightly lit. Because no matter how often we are reminded of this reality, every human has within them a dare to hope for the impossible.