Runway Runaway

My convalescence following hernia surgery is going well.  Yesterday, I transitioned from Floorwalker to Roadwalker, venturing down our road for a solid one mile.  It felt good to be moving again, even if only for a single mile, but I found much to my surprise that I was tired afterward.  This morning I walked another mile, this time on an airport runway where Martha had signed up to run a race.

The race was the "Runway Runaway 5-K" (Race Directors are fond of alliteration - note all the Turkey Trots and Jingle Bell Jogs), and it took place on the runway of a private airport called Heaven's Landing just outside Clayton, GA.  It was a cool morning and the mist was still drifting upward out of the nearby valley on what turned out to be a warm morning.

We did not know what to expect for a race like this.  It was being held on Armed Forces Day to raise funds for a local charity.  Although it was a low-key event, we were surprised by the good turnout.  One thing it was not was flat, which we had sort of expected for a runway.  Runners lined up in the middle of the runway and headed uphill, then turned up another hill onto a road that paralleled the runway, then ran one-and-a-half miles downhill before turning and running up a long, gradual incline to the finish.  There was not a speck of shade (which we had also sort of expected).

“This is an active airport,” the Race Director announced at the start, “and although there are no scheduled flights right now, it is possible that somebody in trouble might want to land.  So if you hear car horns honking, get off the runway!” 

And then the runners took off, as it were, and I was left alone with the handful of family members and race officials and non-running spectators waiting at the finish line.  I used this time to walk my mile on the runway, and while I was walking I thought I heard an airplane droning high overhead in the bright blue sky.  I looked around nervously but could see nothing.  It didn't take long for the first runners to appear up the runway (finishing in 20 minutes or so), the rest of the field stretched out far behind them in the hot sun.  Martha appeared then in the distance, looking strong and determined - she had her "race face" on!

The effort was good enough for first place in her age group (out of six women), and she also finished in 14th place overall.  Martha has always had a very impressive finish-line kick.

We stood around waiting for several walkers to finish, some of them in well over an hour.  I am never impatient or condescending to these last runners, some of them overweight or recovering from injury, or perhaps running their first race; one of them was a cute little six-year-old who was very serious about filling out her little finish-card.  Everybody else was waiting for the awards, and I seemed to be the only one giving some of them a hearty round of applause, saying "Good job!" and "Strong finish!"  It is easy for the slim 20-minute runners to dauntlessly cross the finish line; these folks had to struggle.

Martha struggled, too, but she has the great advantage of being fit, which makes struggling a little easier and more forgiving.  I believe she may be in the best condition of  her running career, though of course her race times are slowing (as are mine) as she keeps advancing into new age groups.  We like to say that runners never grow old; they just rise into new age groups.

While we were waiting, the Race Director announced that a airplane would be taking off, and sure enough as the last one or two walkers moved off the runway, a small airplane taxied up the runway and rose into the air, much smaller than I had expected, dipped its wings from side to side.  In a little while, it turned around and buzzed us all again.  What a great morning to be up in the sky, I thought, as I watched the airplane disappear, and a hawk glide above the trees off to the side, rising gently on thermals.

First place!  The thrill never grows old, whether it is an impressive or unusual trophy or a simple medal hung around the neck, whether there is loud applause or a faint scattering.  It is a recognition of another accomplishment, and it simply makes a runners day.

And soon I hope to be back out here myself once again, enjoying the fruits of fitness.  Maybe even on this runway next year. 

 I’ve never had my picture taken standing next to a windsock before.