I Ain't Superman

"Trying to do more than I can; Gotta little out of hand; I ain't Superman," Willie Nelson, 91.
Willie has a few years on me, but I'm identifying with that lyric a little more these days. I'm pretty sure God set my parts warranty at 55 years due to the injuries and assorted aches and pains that almost immediately showed up after my last birthday.
Not being as wise yet as old Willie, I'm having a hard time adjusting. In February I stubbornly ran a marathon even though my training was cut short due to an injury and I hadn't run in a month. Of course, this was against doctor's and wife's advice.
Even though it was my slowest one, my longtime running buddy, Jason, will forever describe my gutting it out as "epic" and "bad-%8#".
I felt the same when crossing the finish line. However, a week later as the realization hit me that I would need to shut my running down for a few months to try and heal - and the uncertainty of whether I'd ever be able to run again - I felt epically stupid.
Soon afterwards I really indentified with something said by Jeremy Goldberg: "Courage is knowing it might hurt and doing it anyway. Stupidity is the same. And that's why life is hard."
I recently volunteered for the three-day Georgia Run for the Fallen (GRFF), but this time as an RV driver/photographer instead of as a runner, which gave me the opportunity to still be part the very rewarding mission of honoring our fallen military heroes and showing love to their grieving families.
It also gave me the chance to watch some really good amateur runners in action.
Once again, I was in awe of the abilities of the team's better runners, who can spend three days speeding down the highway on foot while straightening the curves and flattening the hills like the Duke Boys in the General Lee.
Impressive new additions to this year's team included: Dan Henry, 38, who recently placed 26^th overall in the Air Force Marathon by averaging 7:43 per mile for 26.2 miles; Christi Ballagh, 48, who recently logged 53 miles as the overall female winner in a 12-hour race; and Trent Free, 38, (I don't know much about his running history but I'd have to flip a coin before betting on a race between him and Forrest Gump).
I am in awe of their abilities, but as my RV windshield gave me a front-seat view of this year's GRFF, it wasn't the burners who impressed me the most. I found myself drawing inspiration from some of my other, less fleet-footed teammates.
I marvelled at the tenacity and toughness of Emma "Bulldog" Warren, an Alaskan native now living in Gray. Previously overweight and in poor health, she took matters into her own hands (and legs) after surviving a "widow-maker" heart attack. She began walking and then running as part of her recovery and new active lifestyle. Now, much lighter and with a pacemaker, she's a distance runner and three-time GRFF team member.
She'll likely never qualify for Boston or be one of the fastest runners on the team, but nobody's going to "out-heart" her. Case in point: There are many daunting hills on the three-day, 160-mile run, but there is one on Day 3 everyone simply refers to as "The Hill". The new guys were all anxiously awaiting their first site of the legendary assent, asking each time we got closer and a big hill appeared, "Is that it? That's gotta be it."
Having figured the team rotations and knowing it wouldn't be Emma's turn to run, I told them they'd know when we got to it because she would get out of the other RV and join whatever team was out in order to battle her nemesis. Sure enough, when we stopped near the base of "The Hill", Emma emerged. As I looked out the windshield of RV1, she glanced back at me, pointed to the summit, and grinned. And yes, she made it to the top again this year.
Then there's Larry Car, the oldest member of the team. He and I sported matching knee braces this year - but he was out there running instead of driving. He's lost some speed with age, but his fortitude is still firmly in place. Less than a month after a 112-mile bike ride and a 26.2-mile run while competing in Ironman-Chattanooga, he was pounding the pavement with the GRFF team.
Some of his younger teammates had a little fun Photo-Shopping a "Nursing Home Road" sign in a photo of him sneaking in a nap on the RV between his rotations ... but they all want to be him when they grow up.
Inspiration also came from William Gierke, a Gold Star Father whose son, LCpl Jonathan Gierke was killed in service in 2022. After watching his son being honored during last year's run, he strapped on a knee brace and joined the team for his son's mile this year.
Because of them, instead of feeling down about my age and limitations, I'm looking forward to a comeback (whatever it may look like). I'm hopeful that I've still got plenty of miles ahead of me. But driving cross country in an old jalopy is a bit different than making the trek in a brand-new Cadillac.
Still, old Jed Clampett did make it all the way to California and had plenty of joy left in the tank.