FLRC Newsletter - May 2003
	The Martin Luther King Day Epic [Or how I lost an ear]

Diane Sherrer runs a tough love training camp all year long for has-beens and wanna-bees. I'm her pet project. Last year she mercifully enlisted me for yet another comeback "for my own good". We entered a couple of trail runs. I am sure there were parts of those races that I hated. But overall, I was left mentally unscarred and still willing to participate in Sherrer's camp. Late last fall, Diane let me know that I needed to start buckling down.

For Christmas I received a beautiful pair of Redfeather Sport Trek snowshoes. General Sherrer was delighted. Now she could see what I really could do. After that, I was outside lots of mornings with Diane, snowshoeing before the sky turned light. On those bitter cold mornings I'd whine to Diane that my hands were freezing. "It's so beautiful outside," she'd reply, looking past me.

One day, the General informed me that we would be doing the fun run at the Finger Lakes Snowshoe race in Hector. "Great," I said. I envisioned the two of us well ahead of the pack, striding over the finish line. No one had to know that I had been practicing the last month on my new snowshoes. Who cares that the fun runners were trying out snowshoes for the first time? Was that my fault? But, woe to those who are heartless.

Scroll back to January 16, Martin Luther King Day. We had planned a trial run in the Finger Lakes National Forest. But suddenly, General Sherrer informed me that we would be doing the full 7.6 miles at the snowshoe race.

"Hey, Phyl, guess what? I think we'll do the whole 7.6. By the way, we're snowshoeing with Sally and Pam on Monday, and we're going to do the entire course. Aren't you excited?"

I covered my gasp. "Ohh, nooo," I thought. I love running with Sally. She's almost 20 years older than I am and I can often keep up with her. Commander Carlucci, on the other hand, was an entirely different story.

Monday morning, Pam picked me up, and. Diane and Sally were already in the car. Jack, Pam's Labrador retriever, hogged the front seat next to her. I pushed myself into the remaining space in the back while snowshoes, food and Sally's ski poles took up the cargo area. As soon as the car stopped in the parking area of the Potomac campground all four doors burst open simultaneously. Jack immediately bounded over a snowbank and disappeared from sight.

As I stood up, my eyes first caught Commander Carlucci already putting on her second shoe. She looked perfect as usual in her carefully coordinated outfit. Soft blue jacket and matching slacks empirically highlighted with white stripes. Pam was raring to go.

I went over to sit on the tailgate next to Diane to put on my snowshoes .The wind had started to pick up. It was colder than usual. "Aren't you excited Phyl?" Diane exclaimed. "I'm so happy were doing this." I smiled weakly back at her. Sally walked over to the car. She had a half-eaten orange in one hand. In the other ,she was holding up a plastic bag of unidentifiable brown and black objects. Her jacket was unzipped and her hat askew. "Hey Phyl, I got the GORP." Sally started shoving a bag of GORP in my pocket and was trying to dispense another bag of it on Diane and Pam. "What? I said. Diane started to laugh. Carlucci was already getting impatient. "Sally, you don't even have your shoes on."

It took Sally another five minutes to strap on her snowshoes over what looked like bowling shoes. The process of straining foot into binder was punctuated with her chatter about colds, diary princesses, and grandchildren. Carlucci scuffed the snow with her shoes while Diane rubbed her hand up and down her arms. I wondered where Jack was. "Here Jack" I called. "He's on the other side of the snowbank," Pam said nonplussed. "Grrrr, grrr." Snow was flying in the air as Jack frantically pawed the earth. Suddenly he looked up and wagged his tail. Jack found a prize: a deer leg dangled from his mouth, while a clump of snow balanced on his nose.

Commander Carlucci broke for the wild ponds first. General Sherrer was hot on her tail. I brought up the rear behind Sally. Within five minutes I was groaning to myself, "Oh, man, they're going too fast; we will never be able to keep up." Diane yelled, "We're on an epic adventure...." The rest of her words were drowned out by the wind. Sally stopped a minute to check her shoes, which had fallen off her feet into the snow. She hadn't stopped talking since we started out. I couldn't make out what she was saying, so I occasionally answered "yes, no, or really". In the meantime, the gap between Diane and Sally was increasing.

Diane and Pam stood on the top of the Backbone hill, their arms akimbo waiting for Sally and I to make up the 50 feet that was between us. Apparently words were exchanged because I was told to lead and Pam dropped back behind Sally. We were going to take turns leading.

"You know Di, I don't want to leave Sally behind". I said, my voice falling flat in the cold. "I like it back there." What I meant to say was that I really was a sniveling weenie hiding behind Sally. I was afraid trying to keep up with Pam and Diane would kill me. "Quit worrying about Sally and get up front. Sally is a warrior and she'll be fine. We need to pick up the pace; and we need to keep moving," the General responded in predictable tough love fashion. "You and Sally WILL finish this and be happy you did.!"

I worked hard running towards the horse camp. It was downhill. I was starting to feel better and was almost happy. Diane ran beside me. It was pretty. In the meantime, Pam and Sally fell further and further behind. We stopped, when the trail turned sharply south, to drink Gatorade and wait for our friends. Diane slammed a tube of glucose tablets on a tree to unfreeze the clump of sugar tablets inside. They wouldn't budge.

Pam sprinted towards us. "Listen, listen," she whispered. "Whatever you do, stop talking. All this chatter is slowing us way down." I wanted to protest. Talking is Sally's MO. No one can stop her from talking. "Did you hear that?" Diane barked at me. "Stop talking and start running!"

Diane took the lead and I followed. Within five minutes, I had worked my way back to Sally. Meanwhile, snow was sifting through the tree limbs and stinging our exposed flesh.

"Drink Phyl," said Sally as pointed a long clear tube towards me with a rubber mouthpiece. She was checking out the new no-freeze, winter proof Camelbak she got for Christmas. She pulled the hose back to her own lips and started sucking rapidly. "Shit," she laughed. "It's froze up. It's not supposed to freeze. Hey, Phyl what does this remind you of?" I thought she was talking about the camel hose, but she was already on another subject. "Remember that time we were running in that snowstorm and you started hitchhiking?" she asked. Now I laughed, " Yeah, the only time worse was when we were running across that golf course, and my hands nearly fell off." Up ahead Pam had stopped in her tracks. We trudged past her. I glanced up as her black eyes drilled a hole in my head " Stop talking", she ordered. I looked sheepishly down. Jack raced ahead. He was laughing.

It was time to turn east and head up a big hill. The temperature continued to drop. "Sally," Diane schemed. "You get up front and lead. You always have a good second wind. " The new plot unfolded. Sally was moving quickly and easily. My quads felt the strain as we pushed upwards. There was no talking. I was grateful for the quiet as I needed to catch my breath. Blissfully, the only sounds were falling snow, heavy breathing and the dampened swooshing of our snowshoes.

"Yodle-Lae- Hee-Hoo" Sally belted out as she attacked the inclines. The serenity was broken. "Traitor," I thought. "I can 't believe it" Carlucci growled. "Diane tell her to stop yodeling." Oblivious to the insurrection behind her, Sally yodeled again and again then turned around and grinned at me. "You do this in Colorado, Phyl, while your flying down hill, WHeeee!"

On a wide turn, Diane and Pam sprinted past Sally and me to take the lead. At the open gateway to the pastures, Pam gathered us around for one final directive. We were facing open fields, with faint markers blown sideways by the driving snow and wind.

"We'll run across this field, hit a road, turn left and enter another field," Pam shouted over the gale winds. "Run as fast as you can across both fields. Ready, set, go!" Pam and Diane took off on a dead sprint.

We had entered the flat, barren and frozen land of Siberia. The snow was now blowing sideways, pelting our ears and cheeks. I felt for my balaclava around my neck, which I had unwisely removed. I vainly tried to cover my ears in another layer of wool. It was no good. The balaclava was a frozen lump that couldn't be pulled back in shape. Way ahead in the horizon I could make out Jack, Diane, and Pam. It was everybody for her or himself. Sally and I struggled forward. I was trying to run and shield my ear. I wondered if the tips would turn white. Could I mail my ear to someone? Would anyone really care?

"The road is runnable. Hurry up!" Diane shouted across the field to Sally and me. We managed to make it across the barren plain. Ahead was a road running east to west that would take us to another stretch across the plains and then back to the Potomac Camp site. I knew exactly where I was. The road would turn right up ahead, but if I kept going straight for two miles I would end up at my house in Reynoldsville. My mind started to drift as Sally and I staggered on. "Sally and I are barbarian captives, and Diane and Pam are Centurions", my mind began blubbering dramatic prose.

"One of the captives saw an opportunity to escape. The weather had reached whiteout conditions. If she bolted now she could make it down the hill into the trees. Maybe the centurions would not give chase and let her die on her own. A second later the moment was gone "Hey you, move!" One of the centurions jabbed a staff into the barbarian's side. She dropped to one knee before struggling to her feet and continuing to trudge across a path she could not see."

"Who has the GORP" asked Sally, as wer emerged from the Burnt Hill Trail.. Diane and Pam looked blank. "GORP? What's GORP?" I thought. Then Diane remembered I had the GORP in my pocket. My fingers moved slowly at my pocket zipper. My brain, mouth, and hands were frozen.

"Whatch's GORP mean?" I slurred. "Everyone knows that; it's Camping 101," Diane said. "Granola, oats, raisins and peanuts." Little did I know I was carrying something I would never dream of eating. Finally I pulled the bag out of my pocket. Sally hungrily grabbed the food before passing it to Pam. It came back to me and I offered it to Diane. "Are you crazy?" she asked. "That crap will break your teeth!" I hadn't thought of it, but the peanuts and M&M's and raisins were frozen solid and looked menacing.

Now that we were across Picnic Area Road, there were only about two more miles in the training exercise. My feet were aching, and I could feel a blister developing on my right heel. "Come on you guys, just two more miles," Diane shouted. "Yahoo" responded Sally. "Oh shut up all of you," I thought bitterly. Then I felt guilty. Even though it always hurts to play with them, these were my friends and they were trying hard to get me back in shape. "Quit being an asshole," I told myself.

"It's not much further," said Diane, acting as a demented cheerleader. I could tell she was getting tired. She seemed strained as if she could intuitively smell the ungrateful rat in her midst.

We started running downhill. Sally was yodeling again. Pam was increasing her distance, and the laughing Labrador was a black dot. "It's the road, it's the road," Diane and Sally shouted in unison. "It's a mirage," I thought. We moved further and further downhill but no road appeared. Sally moved ahead of me and pushed a branch out of her path. It snapped back and hit my cheek. "Owww," I cried, despite knowing the slap was well deserved. "It is the road!", Diane triumphantly shouted. Only one hill separated us from Pam's car.

It was now well below zero and gale winds bent the mighty pines down to their knees. Branches eerily scraped together moaning before they snapped off. The two centurions and their guard dog were pulling their bedraggled captives up the mountain pass. Dirty and smelling the two barbarians were ill clad. One was missing an ear and had a deep scar across her face. The other, shorter and older, would not stop talking in her strange tongue. Suddenly the smaller centurion whirled around and clubbed the talking slave. The guard dog growled at the captives. "Let's kill them," said the other Centurion."

Pam had already taken off her snowshoes and started up the car by the time Diane, Sally and I had reached the car. Meanwhile, Jack had dragged out the forgotten deer leg and began violently shaking it from side to side.

"That was fun," Commander Carlucci said. "Now get in." We all agreed it was fun. None of us had ever run 7.6 miles on snowshoes.

Our snowshoes were stripped off quickly and we clambered, tired and frozen, into the car. Jack jumped in with the deer leg before Pam could throw it out.

We started back in silence, shivering in our wet clothes. Jack had fallen asleep in his seat. His legs were twitching. "Wasn't that great, Phyl," Diane asked, plucking ice out of her hair.

I watched Jack. He was dreaming that he was running through Siberia with Pam hunting deer. They were going faster and faster. Black, then blue, now white all blending together before disappearing in the horizon. Diane broke my reverie.

"What do you think Phyl? Are you going to be able to do again this next week." "No, sweat," I said. And for the moment, I really believed it myself.

-- Phyllis Radke

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