The Evolutionary Culmination?

According to the latest book by Edward O. Wilson, "The Social Conquest of Earth", a primary reason for the evolutionary survival of homo sapiens is the the species' development of bipedal locomotion.  Our distant ancestors couldn't outsprint their prey but "[a]t some point, humans became long-distance runners.  They needed only to commence a chase and track the prey for mile after mile until it was exhausted and could be overtaken.  The prehuman body, thrusting itself off the ball of the foot with each step and holding a steady pace, evolved a high aerobic capacity."

I can't think of a more apt epitaph for me and Cory.  Barely the speed of an advancing glacier, but holding a slow but steady pace for mile after mile.  All the while, displaying a prehuman body.  Yep, that nails it!  We are the apex of human evolution.

[Actually, to be fair to myself, I should say that I am the apex of human evolution.  Cory, I fear, is not sufficiently evolved to have lost all semblance of some foot speed.  I suspect him of performance enhancement.  Through self-discipline, hard training and a healthy diet.  Well, he may be willing to go that route, but you'll never catch me stooping to such measures.]

We are going to test out our theory of the survival of the fittest this coming Saturday.  (Well, some folks with fancy book-learning would call it Charles Darwin's theory, but I trust that anyone who is still reading this posting doesn't hold with any of that "edumacation" nonsense.)  Anyway, the test of our survival will take place at a 46.8 mile night run in the Arizona desert.  It starts at 5:30 pm, which, when you factor in the time zone differential, is roughly at my normal bedtime.  And it should be around 90 degrees at the start, and low 70's at the finish.  But it's a dry heat.  So it's likely to be perfectly comfortable.  Provided that you're in an air-conditioned car. 

Four weeks after this night run, we are scheduled to be back at the same place for the Javelina Jundred 100-mile footrace.  See, in Spanish, the letter "j" is pronounced like a gutteral "h", so "Jundred" would be pronounced "Hundred."  It's a humorous thing.  Like having people pay to run 100 miles in the Arizona desert.  It's absolutely hilarious!  And you thought distance runners didn't know how to have fun!  I guess you're rethinking that idea now!!

So over the next 5 weeks, Cory--who just turned 65 (aka, the "you really should know better" age) and I will be evidence of whether Edward O. Wilson and Charles Darwin are right:  by which I mean, whether Cory and I are direct descendants of the giant sea tortoises of the Galapagos Islands. 

I think I already know the answer.

NIETZSCHE WAS WRONG. AGAIN.

Yep, German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche was wrong. And Cory and I proved it last weekend. Admittedly, Nietzsche has been wrong about a lot of things. Like with his dating advice for impressing the chicks, "You go to woman? Do not forget your whip."

The thing he was wrong about last weekend was his advice, "What does not kill me makes me stronger." Really, Fred? Stronger? Is that why after last weekend's 100 mile race, Cory and I were going through the airport like Walter Brennan on qualudes? It seems to me, Fred, that you fell for the old "fallacy of the excluded middle", meaning that there is a third alternative between "dead" and "stronger"--call it, "beaten down to the last ounce of fortitude."

Or, to put it in other terms, CORY AND I BEAT THAT 100 MILE RACE LIKE IT WAS A RENTED MULE! Yes. We did it. We completed a 100 mile race. With 8 hours to spare. We weren't fast. But we found ourselves passing a lot of the fast guys over the last 40 miles of the race.

One of the tricky parts of a race that long, though, is that with 60 or 70 miles remaining, you have already gone 30 or 40 miles. So you have had body parts get squirrelly on you. You realize, "those toes have developed blisters" or "my shoulders are knotted up and sore" or "I have chaffed in that spot already where Vasaline won't help"or "if I sit down, I won't be able to get back up". And you know these things are going to keep getting worse. To the extent that you can shut out "what's going to happen" and focus on the immediate "I'm only an hour away from a cup of instant coffee", it helps.

For me, at least, the biggest payoff was the last 2 miles. I knew I was going to finish my first 100. I was far faster than I had thought possible. I was still able to run. Other runners who were outbound on the last 10 mile out-and-back were congratulating me as we passed. The sun was just starting to come up. It was quiet, peaceful and beautiful. As close to perfect a moment as I can remember.

ROCKY ROAD 100 RACE REPORT (Preliminary)

     We made it. We both finished and Jim had the run of his life. He smoked it in 24 hours and 38 minutes and won the age group. I was well behind him at 26:02. Details to follow.

OK, HERE WE GO AGAIN--Rocky Road 100

               They say you can't really remember pain with the same intensity that you felt while going through it. They say that's how women can have more than one baby. Well, I don't know nothin' about birthin' no babies but I guess Jim and I can be as forgetful as any women because the day after tomorrow we're going to give a 100 another try. This time it's the Rocky Road (not the Rocky Raccoon) 100 miler in Coto De Caza, California. I've never been there but what I know is this: it's not has high as Leadville, it's not as steep as Leadville, it's not as rocky and technical as Leadville. It is, however, exactly as long so we'll find out if it was really just the altitude that stopped us in Colorado.

          This time we're not going out weeks in advance to get familiar with course or the conditions. We fly out tomorrow, check into a hotel, get up Saturday morning, and start running at 6:00 am. With luck, we'll finish Sunday morning, probably between 11 and noon, get a shower, drive back to Los Angles, hopefully grab a beer and catch the red-eye back and arrive in Indy at 9:30 Monday morning so Jim can teach college math classes. (I have trouble making change for a dollar after a full night's sleep so I have no idea how he can do that).

          Anyway, that's the plan, such as it is. As Jim's favorite Mike Tyson quote goes, however, "Everybody's got a plan until they get hit in the mouth". I guess we'll see how well we can take a punch.