Ultraman with Ultraguts
And a Great Big Heart
Let me tell you how good Carl Yates looks in MY jacket.
[Guess I'd better explain this one.]
First of all Carl has a wonderful wife and beautiful
daughter. Secondly, they were all there at Hardrock this
year. Only thing was, of course, Carl couldn't run because
of his knee which he's explained elsewhere. (Like, here.
Like, yesterday.) So what Carl did instead was stay awake
most of the time and drive around all over the course and
lend a hand anywhere he could and cheer on anyone who needed
it. Or, he'd drive one place and his wife and daughter
would drive another, or he and his wife, or he and his
daughter, or, heck, I don't know how many different
mathematical combinations they all did to help people out.
But the point is, they were the ones who drove my wife all
over the place because she was VERY intimidated by the roads
and terrain to tackle any trips herself. They thus
performed an outstanding service, of which my wife was the
direct beneficiary and due to which I was undoubtedly
encouraged to make it as far as I did. Carl and his family
therefore have our undying gratitude.
So, at one point, I lightened my load by emptying stuff out
of my pack--giving it all to my wife at Grouse Gulch. Next
thing I know (right, like how 'bout six or eight hours
later?) I'm coming into the Ouray aid station and there I
see a man wearing my jacket! (I was so delirious, I had no
clue. I just thought maybe the man shopped at the same
store I did, or something.) And actually it was my jacket
because it was Carl and he was driving the family and my
wife to Ouray and he had simply forgotten his, so my wife
let him use mine. And I had NO CLUE what was going on and
didn't figure this one out until at least a day later when
it was finally explained to me in great painstaking detail.
Damn, but he sure looked good in my jacket! And if I
thought it could possibly have the remotest chance of
cheering him up, I'd gladly give it back to him to keep.
But now you read yesterday's post. And tell me this
first-class ultraman hasn't already cheered himself up, eh?
He's coming back next year again to help out!
Now let me observe one more thing. Maybe Carl won't be able
to run Hardrock anymore (of course he and his family will
still be there cheering) but you know what? He has given me
and about umpteen thousand other wannabe Hardrockers
something of a Herculean example to strive for:
Carl has finished Hardrock. I haven't.
(Maybe, now that I think about it, Carl should give me HIS
jacket to cheer ME up!!! :-)
[Personal note to Carl: You're not alone, my friend. I
know several other heroes of mine who have been knocked out
of further SEVERE runs like this by their doctors' orders.
It can happen to any of us at any time. A year ago or so I
met a SUPER runner here locally who now wants to marry one
of the young female athletes that I helped train to run her
first marathon. We're talking people who are just barely in
their 30's. This year the guy is knocked out of competing
permanently. He's been diagnosed with arthritis!]
[Thankfully though, last I heard, the marriage is still
going forward. But of course the bride-to-be is S.O.L.
She's too fast now to go back to running with me!]