Romance is an interesting concept. It is often associated
with an atmosphere that has special meaning. Maybe it’s dining at a favorite restaurant,
enjoying a cup of coffee or glass of wine with your partner while overlooking
the ocean, being greeted by your partner with flowers, or just holding hands
with that special person as you stroll through a park. I am fairly confident
that most people would not say watching your partner literally running in
circles for 48 hours sounds romantic. Yet here my wife was with me in
Hainesport, New Jersey to watch me do just that at the Hainesport Endurance
Run.
But romance is about more than setting and atmosphere. It
also lives in small gestures that others may overlook but mean a great deal to
the person receiving them. After more than 35 years of marriage, my wife and I
know each other so well that surprises are rare. Still, her offer to crew me
during this 48-hour run caught me completely off guard. I have done most of
these runs alone because crewing is a lot to ask of anyone, even my wife. It
means long stretches of waiting, followed by fetching whatever food, drinks, or
gear the runner needs. Her offer was about supporting me, not doing something
for herself. To me, that is romantic.
Ironically at the same time my wife would be crewing me, my
brother and his wife would be vacationing on the coast of Portugal, my sister
and her husband were touring Crete and Italy, and my daughter and her husband would also be travelling
to Europe on their belated
honeymoon. All of these destinations
seem like more romantic excursions. So, I kept asking my wife if she was sure
about this. She assured me she was, although she added a caveat that she’d crew
me only if the weather was nice. That
makes sense as romance is often weather-related.
The weather report for the weekend promised one nice fall
day but the second day was looking very iffy. Despite that forecast, my wife
decided to join me and that first morning we set up our sturdy canopy. The last
one I had was destroyed at my last race in a thunderstorm, so we decided to
splurge on a sturdier brand that also included walls if we wanted to put them
up—which we did.
The first 24 hours I was doing pretty good. I was hoping to complete
about 120 miles. I was ahead of my pace in no small part because of my wife.
This was a mile loop so I ran by frequently and would tell her what I needed
when I came around. It may not seem like
much but having my food out and ready instead of searching through the ice
chest for something saved so much time.
She also instinctively kept track of my calories, urging me to get some
in. We were a good team. I was really appreciating her gesture of crewing me.
It was romantic.
While the first 24 hours was good, the same could not be
said for the next 24 hours. The next morning remnants of storm Isaias came in.
At first, it wasn’t too bad but then the wind and rain picked up. I remembered
my wife’s caveat and told her she should get a hotel room. My friends Dave and Robert,
who were already not having their best runs, were going to call it a race. I
continued on but my rain gear was not great since it was water resistant, not waterproof.
I somehow put on two layers of water-resistant gear, and it was manageable but
not ideal. My wife then decided to go to Walmart and get me waterproof gear. This
was a true gesture of love and romance. So, while the rain and wind howled, we
shared a romantic moment. While she shopped,
I trudged on, though a bit slower than before.
She later returned with a waterproof jacket, she could not
find pants, but I borrowed a pair of waterproof pants from my friend Dave who
was dropping out. We seemed set.
I kept moving during the day, but the weather never improved.
In fact, it got a lot windier. The few times I was in our camp the wind shook
the walls and one time we even held onto the metal posts to make sure it stayed
in place. I should note that we are not spring chickens. I am 67 and my wife is
70. She is also not very big so holding this canopy together was not easy.
It was getting later in the afternoon when my wife said that
she had made an “executive decision” that we needed to take down our camp and
she would stay in the car. She had already booked a hotel. She was fearful that the canopy would not
hold. When she makes an executive decision that means I have no say in the verdict.
Taking down the camp in the wind and rain was difficult since we had so much
equipment, including a table, ice chest, plastic bins, chairs and other gear. We
also had to walk about 50 yards or so to the car and everything we put in the
car was soaking wet, especially the canopy.
As we were putting the last items in the car, I knew that she had enough. I told her that I would pull out. A small gesture of romance which she topped immediately. “No, you keep going and get your 100 miles,” she said. (I also had made an executive decision earlier and told her I would stop after 100 miles.) I warned her that it might take a few hours since she would be sitting in the car. “It’s okay you go,” she replied. “God I love her” I thought but only replied “thanks.”
I headed off walking fast a couple of loops with a man named
Dennis who had entered the race for the last 12 hours. Darkness was setting in
and the asphalt pathway was flooded in several areas. The water was over our shoes,
and our feet were getting soaked. I kept thinking of my wife in the car and
said to Dennis. “I have to run. My wife has endured enough.” So, I took
off for the last ten miles and my feet were waterlogged. I made no attempt to avoid the many flooded
paths since the grass was a swamp and it was quicker to just run through the
water and be uncomfortably wet. Luckily the water was not cold.
Before my last lap I went to the parking lot and told her
that I would be finishing. When I got to the finish she was there to observe my
shock that I needed to do one more lap. The course was just shy of a mile, so I
had to do 101 laps to get the 100 miles. That was the hardest mile to do
because I had thought I was done.
When I received my buckle for doing 100 miles my wife
quipped “I should get one too.” She’s right. Without her I might have achieved
100 miles, but it would have taken me much longer. That’s been the pattern of
our life together—because of her support I have achieved more than I otherwise
would have.
It was great to take off my sopping wet shoes and socks. When we got to the hotel my wife had a
sandwich for me which was perfect because I was starving. I had not really
eaten anything the last few hours. Another gesture of love and romance. It
definitely was a race with miserable weather but terrific romance.
Now I am sure that some readers might think that while this
is a nice story about the affection a couple has for each other, in no way does
a weekend spent largely outside during a windy rainstorm qualify as a romantic
interlude. I will tell you that I believe my wife would agree with you. A visit
to Italy, Portugal or anywhere in Europe would make for a more romantic getaway.
I am now looking at places to visit for a more traditional
romantic vacation. In my research I have found that they have ultra-marathons
in almost all European countries. So, we could enjoy a picturesque villa in
Italy—and my wife could also crew me at an ultra-marathon there!
What can I say? I am
just hopeless romantic.
