Day 33: Holy Bananas!! I Thought Yesterday Was Bad.

I really should watch what I say on this trip. Like when I said this morning that I figured the run would be pretty flat, considering the mountain I had to climb the day before. I do believe I need to go back to college and audit a couple US Geography courses before I profess to speak wisely on the mountainous regions of Arizona. Open mouth. Insert foot. Of course, I couldn't fit my foot in my mouth now because it is so swollen from the carnage that was today's run. I know I said last night that yesterday's run was "brutal". Well, I am an idiot. Yesterday was a G-rated Disney cartoon compared to the XXX-hardcore smutfest of a mountain I was presented. Okay okay, enough waxing filthily poetic. Honestly though, today was the hardest thing physically I have ever done, not just on this trip so far, but in my entire life.
About 10 years ago, our family went to Michigan on vacation, and we visited the Sleeping Bear Dunes. Beautiful place, but there was a dune that seemed about 500 feet tall and led down to Lake Michigan. There were warning signs posted everywhere on the top of the dune for those brave enough to slide all the way down to the lake. There was only 1 way out, and that was to climb back up. Many people have been airlifted by helicopter off this thing, but our family was not deterred. Even Dad went down. The trip down was awesome, sliding down the sand, having a good ole time. The trip back up was, until today, the most miserable thing I have ever done in my life. Not to get all scientific on you all, but the dune's steepness was at what is called the Angle of Repose, which is as steep as it can get without sand falling off. For every step you took, you slid back a half step. 20 feet into the climb, I realized that I had made a huge mistake. And then I looked over at Dad. It is the first time I ever saw the look of pure terror in his eyes, and I knew then, that we may be the next victims to be airlifted off the dune. The trip down took little more than 5 minutes. The trip back up seemed as if it took hours. That is because it did take hours. At many points on the way up, I believed that both my father and I were in fact dancing inside the 7th circle of hell. There was a lot of cursing, and a good bit of hallucinating, as well as three or four near death experiences between the two of us. Defying gravity and logic itself, we both managed to drag our near dead bodies to the top. As we lay there in the sand, still contemplating our brush with death, Dad looked at me and said the following: "You know, I've lived on this earth for 52 years, and that is by far the dumbest thing I have ever done!" Ahahaha!!
Those words stuck with me, and rang so true today as I drug my hobbled body up the final incline of Route 60, or as I now call it Route Who the %*#@ Built This Road. I stopped at the van, checked to see that my legs had not, in fact, fallen off, gathered what was left of my air, and said to Mom the following: "That is, by far, the dumbest thing I have ever done!". Like father, like son.
Now, for the slightly serious part. The amazing thing about today's run was that I did not quit, although I seriously contemplated it a number of times. I do not believe that even 25 days ago, at the beginning of this journey, that I could have finished all 20 miles. I had no legs to even start the day, and running at altitude offers no relief when trying to gasp for air. I was also unaware that the wind could be directly in my face at 20 mph while traveling due East, and also directly in my face at 20 mph while traveling due North. The stats for today are as follows: From mile marker 250 to mile marker 270 on Route 60 (see above name change for road). From elevation 3,600 feet at Globe, AZ to elevation 5,200 feet in the first 12 miles, every step uphill, and most incredibly steep. 5 total miles of downhill, which only served to set me up for more ginormous mountains to climb. 4 delusional thoughts of impending demise. 247 curse words. 5 more vultures circling overhead for the last 8 miles waiting patiently for me to drop dead. 6 thoughts that I may, in fact, drop dead. 2 swollen feet, a set of legs I couldn't give to Goodwill after today, an aching back, a pair of knees that may or may not explode in a few minutes, half a lung, 4 calling birds, 3 french hens, 2 turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree.
But I did finish. Officially that is 500 miles in 25 days. Pushing yourself beyond your limits must mean they weren't actually limits, just guidelines your mind had set to pre-determine the path of least resistance. At this very moment, I feel as if the path I am now taking is limitless. My hope is that you all have the opportunity, and take the chance to rearrange your "limits". Rest day tomorrow. Goodnight all.