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September the 7th 2001; a date that changed my life for the better and set me on the road to self-awakening. That was the day I moved to America.
A lot of water under the bridge in those ten brief years. Marriage, Divorce, two deaths, endless travel to lands far and near, good friends lost and good friends found. Some things I could have lived without but all have made me. Thank you both, England and America, for allowing me the time in your great countries.
Reflecting on the positive changes in my life over this time gives me pause for thought about the low points. Four days after setting foot on this continent, the US was under attack by terrorists and I had no idea of what would come next. Because of this event, both the US and UK are now shaped by paranoia and reaction, which often makes it hard to understand why and how much I love this country. I can’t see myself ever leaving this place that is home. I’m very proud of my roots but America is where I have always belonged.
Here’s to the next 10 years and a wish for less conflict, less death and endless peace.
Parking organization at the event is pretty abysmal. Arriving at an admittedly last-minute 1:00pm for the 1:30pm race didn’t help but as we abandoned the car and took off running to the sign-in booth, it was clear that it would have taken a miracle to park before the race had ended, let alone started. Our designated car-parker, relayed later how it had taken over an hour to inch through dust and gravel to the base of the valley – something that had taken around fifteen minutes to run.
Initially held back with start-line stumblers, my stride eventually extends past a thinning crowd. Easing myself up near the front, I feel good, really good. The path turns to the left and drops downhill to a small stream crossing. This is not too bad, comfortable even, until the first hill appears and then, I lose it all. Mentally, I had prepared for some tough obstacles and average trail running, not crazy 45 degree punishers that poorly mediate a conference call with my heart and mind. Slower now, first to a shorter stride, then to a mediocre jog, finally, to a walk. Is this the worst of the inclines? Slight recovery and it’s time to press on. Picking up the pace again as the brow of the hill churns behind, there appears another hill seemingly steeper than the first, then another. I’m barely moving faster than a shuffle now and wondering how I’ll make it to the end.
Warning, Obstacle Ahead comes in to view and my veins pump relief through my bloodstream, content that the longest portion of running is now done. This is what I had been waiting for and braced myself for the chill of the lake, as I focused on the floating logs, blocking the route ahead. Reaching waist high, a pocket of silt suctions my feet, forcing me downward. I find air, stand, and fall again. I’m up again, clutching the first log which I can easily slide over with my lengthy, soaked body. Another log, then two more, followed by a short stumble through the liquid embankment. Dry land. Heels kick back, launching me forward as my lungs are insane for expansion.
