A tale of two runners

It was a beautiful Saturday morning like many others. Today was a 15K trail run in the city's nicest park, and the weather was glorious. #585, a 54-year-old experienced trail runner, got up, followed his usual race morning routine, and arrived at the race site. He checked in, picked up his bib, pinned it to his shirt, and milled around with the rest of the runners until the race start.

The event was a casual one, the first of the season's series, and it was a relaxed air. There was a 5K and a 15K, which brought out a wide variety of participants. Runners of all ages and abilities loitered, some standing in the long porta-john lines, others enjoying the hot chocolate that was offered. It was still brisk enough to be a little uncomfortable if you weren't moving around, so some runners, like #599, sat in their cars to stay a little warmer.

Like #585, #599 was feeling good, enjoying the atmosphere, and ready to have a nice run in the woods. These two runners didn't know each other, but shared a passion. #599 was a 50-year-old woman who was thrilled to be able to contemplate a 9-mile trail run with the complacency of a nice afternoon walk, without stress, knowing she would feel terrific at the end.

Finally it was time to start, and the herd of approximately 230 runners took off in a giant pack. #585 was closer to the front; #599 closer to the back. Both were on pace to have a good day, relaxing for the first of three loops, letting the herd spread out a bit. The first mile was fairly slow, as runners had to slow down for a couple of obstacles. The lesser-experienced came to a full stop, which caused a backup. Because it was a casual, relaxed day, no one really seemed to mind, and everyone knew that it would spread out soon and there likely would be no more bottlenecks. The "serious" runners had already taken off like jackrabbits, anyway, and were far ahead of any potential slowdowns.

#599 took in the still-bare trees, the layer of multiple-shades-of-brown leaves on the ground, and the quiet sound of feet hitting dirt and occasionally crumpling some dry leaves. The runners rounded a bend, and there was a splendid view of blue water, with early-morning sun reflecting off of it. What a wonderful way to start a weekend! Both runners rejoiced in the divine feeling of physical activity, the connectedness with nature, the capacity to live.

After conquering the mud pit near the finish for the third time, #585 cruised in for a finish time of 1:23:51, at a pace of 8:59/mile, something #599 would envy. He enjoyed his finish, then sat down. #599 came in over 15 minutes later with a finish time of 1:39:01, a pace of 10:37/mile. She was quite content with that, as she had maintained a very steady pace for the three loops, and had actually done the third one a wee bit faster than the first two. She headed for the food line and settled in for the wait.

After a while, an ambulance arrived. Who are they picking up? What's going on? #599 watched as they loaded #585 onto the ambulance. He was a nice looking man, with a very tidy white beard and trim physique, and he was looking around, taking in what was happening to him. As the ambulance doors were closing, the race announcer told everyone that he had felt some chest pains, so they were taking him to get checked out. #599 and some other runners in line whispered their concern, and optimistically concluded that he likely would get checked out in the ER and sent home sometime later that day or the next, at home before the weekend was over.

#599 went home, content, and thoroughly enjoyed the rest of her weekend.

#585 never went home. His heart stopped when they loaded him onto the ambulance, and it never started again.

He didn't get in his car and drive it home, walk in the front door, and hug his wife. Didn't scratch the dog, say hello to the kitties, enjoy a hot shower. His weekend was over, far too early.

But he thoroughly enjoyed his last act on this planet: a trail run on a gloriously beautiful early spring day.

RIP #585.